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Pelle  the  Conqueror 

m.    THE   OBEAT  STBUOGLE 
lY.    DATBBEAS 


PELLE  THE  CONQUEROR 


I.^BOYHOOD.      Translated     by     Jessie 
MuiB. 

II.—APPRENTICESHIP.      Translated     by 
Bebnaro  Miall. 

III.— THE  GREAT  STRUGGLE.    TPranslated 
by  Bebnabd  Miall. 

IV.— VICTORY.  Translated  by  Jessie  Muir. 


Nkw  Yokk:  Henky  Holt  and  Company 


Pelle  the  Conqueror 


Martin  Anderson  Nexo 


.    THE   GREAT   STBUOOLE 

TrantlateH  from  the 
DattUk  fry  /M*l0  Mutt 

IV.     DATBEEAK 
Protuloted  by  Bernard  MUM 


NEW    TOSK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

1917 


'  u 


e'in^rLiDi{z) 


HARVARD 

UNIVEPvt^lTY 

LIBRARY 

DEC  18  1961 


THE  GREAT  STRUGGLE 


III.    THE  GREAT  STRUGGLE 


A  8WABM  of  children  was  playing  on  the  damp  floor  of  the 
shaft.  They  hung  from  the  lower  portions  of  the  timber-work, 
or  ran  in  and  out  between  the  upright  supports,  humming  tunes, 
with  bread-and-dripping  in  their  hands;  or  they  sat  on  the 
ground  and  pushed  themselves  forward  across  the  sticky  flag- 
stones. The  air  himg  clammy  and  raw,  as  it  does  in  an  old 
well,  and  already  it  had  made  the  little  voices  husky,  and  had 
marked  their  faces  with  the  scars  of  scrofula.  Yet  out  of  the 
tunnel-like  passage  which  led  to  the  street  there  blew  now  and 
again  a  warm  breath  of  air  and  the  fragrance  of  budding  trees 
— ^f rom  the  world  that  lay  behind  those  surrounding  walls. 

They  had  finished  playing  ''Bro-bro-brille,*'  for  the  last 
rider  had  entered  the  black  cauldron;  and  Hansel  and  Oretel 
had  crept  safely  out  of  the  dwarf  Vinslev's  den,  across  the 
sewer-grating,  and  had  reached  the  pancake-house,  which,  mar- 
velously  enough,  had  also  a  grating  in  front  of  the  door,  through 
which  one  could  thrust  a  stick  or  a  cabbage-stalk,  in  order  to 
stab  the  witch.  Sticks  of  wood  and  cabbage-stalks  were  to  be 
found  in  plenty  in  the  dustbins  near  the  pancake-house,  and 
they  knew  very  well  who  the  witch  was!  Now  and  again  she 
would  pop  up  out  of  the  ceUar  and  scatter  the  whole  crowd  with 
her  kitehen  tongs  I  It  was  almost  a  little  too  lifelike;  even  the 
smell  of  pancakes  came  drifting  down  from  where  the  well-to- 
do  Olsens  lived,  so  that  one  could  hardly  call  it  a  real  fairy 
tale.  But  then  perhaps  the  dwarf  Vinslev  would  come  out  of 
his  den,  and  would  once  again  tell  them  the  story  of  how  he 
had  sailed  off  with  the  King's  gold  and  sunk  it  out  yonder,  in 
the  King's  Deep,  when  the  Germans  were  in  the  land.     A 

3 


4  PELLB  THE   CONQUEBOB 

whole  ship's  crew  took  out  the  King's  treasure^  but  not  one  save 
Vinslev  knew  where  it  was  snnk,  and  even  he  did  not  know 
now.  A  terrible  secret  that>  such  as  well  might  make  a  man 
a  bit  queer  in  the  head.  He  would  explain  the  whole  chart  on 
his  double-breasted  waistcoat;  he  had  only  to  steer  from  this 
button  to  that,  and  then  down  yonder,  and  he  was  close  above 
the  treasure.  But  now  some  of  the  buttons  had  fallen  ofF,  and 
he  could  no  longer  make  out  the  chari  Day  by  day  the  chil- 
dren helped  him  to  trace  it;  this  was  an  exciting  bit  of  work, 
for  the  King  was  getting  impatient ! 

There  were  other  wonderful  things  to  do;  for  instance,  one 
could  lie  flat  down  on  the  slippery  flagstones  and  play  Hanne's 
game — ^the  ''Qlory'*  game.  You  turned  your  eyes  from  the 
darkness  down  below,  looking  up  through  the  gloomy  shaft  at 
the  sky  overhead,  which  floated  there  blazing  with  light,  and 
then  you  suddenly  looked  down  again,  so  that  everything  was 
quite  dark.  And  in  the  darkness  floated  blue  and  yellow  rings 
of  color,  where  formerly  there  had  been  nothing  but  dustbins 
and  privies.  This  dizzy  flux  of  colors  before  the  eyes  was  the 
journey  far  out  to  the  land  of  happiness,  in  search  of  all  the 
things  £hat  cannot  be  told.  '7  can  see  something  myself,  and  I 
know  quite  well  what  it  is,  but  I'm  just  not  going  to  teU,"  fhey 
murmured,  blinking  mysteriously  up  into  the  blue. 

However,  one  could  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing.  .  •  . 
But  the  round  grating  under  the  timbers  yonder,  where  Hanne's 
father  drowned  himself,  was  a  thing  one  never  grew  weary  of. 
The  depths  were  forever  bubbling  upward,  filling  the  little  chil- 
dren with  a  secret  horror;  and  the  half-grown  girls  would  stand 
a-straddle  over  the  grating,  shuddering  at  the  cold  breath  that 
came  murmuring  up  from  below.  The 'grating  was  sure  enough 
the  way  down  to  hell,  and  if  you  gazed  long  enough  you  could 
see  the  faintest  glimmer  of  the  inky  stream  that  was  flowing 
down  below.  Every  moment  it  sent  its  putrid  breath  up  into 
your  face ;  that  was  the  Devil,  who  sat  panting  down  there  in  a 
comer.  If  you  turned  your  eyes  away  from  the  depths  the 
twilight  of  the  well  had  turned  to  brightest  day,  so  you  could 
make  the  world  light  or  dark  just  as  you  wished. 

A  few  children  always  lay  there,  on  all  fours,  gazing  down 
with  anxious  faces;  and  all  summer  through,  directly  over  the 


THE  GBEAT   STBUGGLB  5 

grating;  hung  a  cloud  of  midges^  swaying  in  the  breath  of  the 
depths.  They  would  rise  to  a  certain  height^  then  suddenly 
fall;  and  rise  again,  just  like  a  juggler's  balls.  Sometimes  the 
breathing  from  below  sucked  the  whole  swarm  right  down,  but 
it  rose  up  again,  veering  hither  and  thither  like  a  dancing 
wraith  in  the  draught  from  the  tunnel-like  entry.  The  little 
girls  would  gaze  at  it,  lift  their  petticoats,  and  take  a  few 
graceful  steps.  Olsen's  Elvira  had  learned  her  first  dance-steps 
here,  and  now  she  was  dancing  respectable  citizens  into  the 
poor-house.  And  the  furniture  broker's  daughter  was  in  Peters- 
burg, and  was  aJmost  a  Grand  Duchess  I 

On  the  walls  of  the  narrow  shaft  projecting  porches  hung 
crazily,  so  that  they  left  only  a  small  free  space,  and  here  the 
clothes-lines  ran  to  and  fro,  loaded  with  dishclouts  and  chil- 
dren's clothing.  The  decaying  wooden  staircases  ran  zig-zag 
up  the  walls,  disappearing  into  the  projecting  porches  and  com- 
ing out  again,  until  they  reached  the  very  garrets. 

From  the  projecting  porches  and  the  galleries,  doors  led 
into  the  various  tenements,  or  to  long  corridors  that  connected 
the  inner  portions  of  the  house.  Only  in  Pipman's  side  there 
were  neither  porches  nor  galleries,  from  the  second  story  up- 
ward; time  had  devoured  them,  so  that  the  stairs  alone  re^ 
mained  in  place.  The  ends  of  the  joists  stuck  out  of  the  wall 
like  decaying  tooth  stumps,  and  a  rope  hung  from  above,  on 
which  one  could  obtain  a  hold.  It  was  black  and  smooth  from 
the  grip  of  many  hands. 

On  one  of  those  hot  Jime  days  when  the  heavens  shone  like 
a  blazing  fire  above  the  rift  overhead,  the  heavy,  mouldering 
timbers  came  to  life  again,  as  if  their  forest  days  had  returned. 
People  swarmed  in  and  out  on  the  stairs,  shadows  came  and 
went,  and  an  incessant  chattering  filled  the  twilight  From 
porch  to  porch  dropped  the  sour-smelling  suds  from  the  chil- 
dren's  washing,  until  at  last  it  reached  the  ground,  where  the 
children  were  playing  by  tiie  sluggish  rivulets  which  ran  from 
the  gutters.  The  timbers  groaned  continually,  like  ancient 
boughs  that  rub  together,  and  a  clammy  smell  as  of  earth  and 
moist  vegetation  saturated  the  air,  while  all  that  one  touched 
wore  a  coating  of  slime,  as  in  token  of  its  exuberant  fertility. 

One's  gaze  could  not  travel  a  couple  of  steps  before  it  was 


6  PELLE   THE   CONQITEEOB 

checked  by  wooden  walls^  but  one  felt  conscious  of  the  world 
that  lay  behind  them.  When  the  doors  of  the  long  passages 
opened  and  shut^  one  heard  the  rumor  of  the  innumerable 
creatures  that  lived  in  the  depths  of  the  '^Ark^';  the  crying  of 
little  children,  the  peculiar  fidgeting  sound  of  marred,  eccentric 
individuals,  for  many  a  whole  life's  history  unfolded  itself  with- 
in there,  undisturbed,  never  daring  the  light  of  day.  On  Pip- 
man's  side  the  waste-pipes  stuck  straight  out  of  the  wall,  like 
wood-goblins  grinning  from  the  thicket  with  wide-open  mouths, 
and  long  gray  beards,  which  bred  rose-pink  earthworms,  and 
from  time  to  time  fell  with  a  heavy  smack  into  the  yard.  Green 
hanging  bushes  grew  out  of  holes  in  the  wall.  The  waste  water 
trickled  through  them  and  dripped  continually  as  though  from 
the  wet  locks  of  the  forest.  Inside,  in  the  greenish,  dripping 
darkness,  sat  curiously  marked  toads,  like  little  water-nymphs, 
each  in  her  grotto,  shining  with  imwholesome  humidity.  And 
up  among  the  timbers  of  the  third  story  hung  Hanne's  canary, 
singing  quite  preposterously,  its  beak  pointing  up  toward  the 
spot  of  fiery  light  overhead.  Across  the  fioor  of  the  courtyard 
went  an  endless  procession  of  people,  light-shy  creatures  who 
emerged  from  the  womb  of  the  ^'Ark''  or  disappeared  into  it. 
Most  of  them  were  women,  weirdly  clad,  unwholesomely  pale, 
but  with  a  layer  of  grime  as  though  the  darkness  had  worked 
into  their  skins,  with  drowsy  steps  and  fanatical,  glittering 
eyes. 

Little  old  men,  who  commonly  lay  in  their  dark  comers 
waiting  for  death,  came  hobbling  out  on  the  galleries,  lifted 
their  noses  toward  the  blazing  speck  of  sky  overhead,  and 
sneezed  three  times.  ^'That's  the  sun  V*  they  told  one  another, 
delighted.    ^'Artishu !    One  don't  catch  cold  so  easy  in  winter !" 


n 

High  up,  out  of  Pipman's  garret,  a  young  man  stepped  out 
onto  the  platform.  He  stood  there  a  moment  turning  his 
smiling  face  toward  the  bright  heavens  overhead.  Then  he 
lowered  his  head  and  ran  down  the  break-neck  stairs,  without 
holding  on  by  the  rope.  Under  his  arm  he  carried  something 
wrapped  in  a  blue  cloth. 

^Just  look  at  the  clown!  Laughing  right  into  the  face  of 
the  sun  as  though  there  was  no  such  thing  as  blindness  V'  said 
the  women,  thrusting  their  heads  out  of  window.  '^But  then,  of 
course,  he's  from  the  country.  And  now  he's  going  to  deliver 
his  work.  Lord,  how  long  is  he  going  to  squat  up  there  and 
earn  bread  for  that  sweater?  The  red'U  soon  go  from  his 
cheeks  if  he  stops  there  much  longer  1''  And  they  looked  after 
him  anxiously. 

The  children  down  in  the  courtyard  raised  their  heads 
when  they  heard  his  steps  above  them. 

*TEave  you  got  some  nice  leather  for  us  to-day,  Pelle?*' 
they  cried,  clutching  at  his  legs. 

He  brought  out  of  his  pockets  some  little  bits  of  patent- 
leather  and  red  imitation  morocco. 

^^That's  from  the  Emperor's  new  slippers,"  he  said,  as  he 
shared  the  pieces  among  the  children.  Then  the  youngsters 
laughed  until  their  throats  began  to  wheeze. 

Pelle  was  just  the  same  as  of  old,  except  that  he  was  more 
upright  and  elastic  in  his  walk,  and  had  grown  a  little  fair 
moustache.  His  protruding  ears  had  withdrawn  themselves  a 
little,  as  though  they  were  no  longer  worked  so  hard.  His 
blue  eyes  still  accepted  everything  as  good  coin,  though  they 

7 


8  PELLB   THE   CONQTJBEOE 

now  had  a  faint  expression  that  seemed  to  say  that  all  that 
happened  was  no  longer  to  their  liking.  His  **lucky  curls'* 
still  shone  with  a  golden  light. 

The  narrow  streets  lay  aJways  brooding  in  a  dense,  unbear- 
able atmosphere  that  never  seemed  to  renew  itself.  The  houses 
were  grimy  and  crazy;  where  a  patch  of  sunlight  touched  a 
window  there  were  stained  bed-<ilothes  hung  out  to  dry.  Up 
one  of  the  side  streets  was  an  ambulance  wagon,  surrounded  by 
women  and  children  who  were  waiting  excitedly  for  the  bearers 
to  appear  with  their  uneasy  burden,  and  Pelle  joined  them;  he 
always  had  to  take  part  in  everything. 

It  was  not  quite  the  shortest  way  which  he  took.  The  cap- 
ital was  quite  a  new  world  to  him;  nothing  was  the  same  as 
at  home;  here  a  hundred  different  things  would  happen  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  and  Pelle  was  willing  enough  to  begin  all 
over  again;  and  he  still  felt  his  old  longing  to  take  part  in  it 
all  and  to  assimilate  it  all. 

In  the  narrow  street  leading  down  to  the  canal  a  thirteen- 
year-old  girl  placed  herself  provocatively  in  his  way.  ^^Mother's 
ill,''  she  said,  pointing  up  a  dark  flight  of  steps.  ^f[f  you've 
got  any  money,  come  along  I"  He  was  actually  on  the  point  of 
following  her,  when  he  discovered  that  the  old  women  who  lived 
in  the  street  were  flattening  their  noses  against  their  window- 
panes.  ^^One  has  to  be  on  one's  guard  here  I"  he  told  himself, 
at  least  for  the  hundredth  time.  The  worst  of  it  was  that  it 
was  so  easy  to  forget  the  necessity. 

He  strolled  along  the  canal-side.  The  old  quay-wall,  the 
apple-barges,  and  the  granaries  with  the  high  row  of  hatchways 
overhead  and  the  creaking  puUeys  right  up  in  the  gables  awak- 
ened memories  of  home.  Sometimes,  too,  there  were  vessels 
from  home  lying  here,  with  cargoes  of  flsh  or  pottery,  and  then 
he  was  able  to  get  news.  He  wrote  but  seldom.  There  was  little 
success  to  be  reported;  just  now  he  had  to  make  his  way,  and 
he  still  owed  Sort  for  his  passage-money. 

But  it  would  soon  come.  .  •  .  Pelle  hadn't  the  least  doubt 
as  to  the  future.  The  city  was  so  monstrously  large  and  incal- 
culable; it  seemed  to  have  undertaken  the  impossible;  but  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  such  an  obvious  matter  of  course  as  that  he 
should  make  his  way.    Here  wealth  was  simply  lying  in  great 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  9 

heaps,  and  the  poor  man  too  could  win  it  if  only  he  grasped  at 
it  boldly  enough.  Fortune  here  was  a  golden  bird,  which  could 
be  captured  by  a  little  adroitness;  the  endless  chances  were  like 
a  fairy  tale.  And  one  day  Pelle  would  catch  the  bird;  when 
and  how  he  left  confidingly  to  chance. 

In  one  of  the  side  streets  which  ran  out  of  the  Market  Street 
there  was  a  crowd;  a  swarm  of  people  filled  the  whole  street  in 
front  of  the  iron-foundry,  shouting  eagerly  to  the  blackened 
iron-workers,  who  stood  grouped  together  by  the  gateway,  look- 
ing at  one  another  irresolutely. 

''Whafs  up  here?*"  asked  Pelle. 

^'This  is  up — ^that  they  canH  earn  enough  to  liye  on,**  said 
an  old  man.  'fAnd  the  manufacturers  won't  increase  their  pay. 
So  they've  taken  to  some  new-fangled  fool's  trick  which  they 
say  has  been  brought  here  from  abroad,  where  they  seem  to 
have  done  well  with  it.  That's  to  say,  they  all  suddenly  chuck 
up  their  work  and  rush  bareheaded  into  the  street  and  make  a 
noise,  and  then  back  to  work  again,  just  like  school  children  in 
play-time.  They've  already  been  in  and  out  two  or  three  times, 
and  now  half  of  them's  outside  and  the  others  are  at  work, 
and  the  gate  is  locked.  Nonsense  I  A  lot  thafs  going  to 
help  their  wages  I  No;  in  my  time  we  used  to  ask  for  them 
prettily,  and  we  always  got  something,  too.  But,  anyhow, 
we're  only  working-folks,  and  where's  it  going  to  come  from? 
And  now,  whafs  more,  they've  lost  their  whole  week's 
wages!" 

The  workmen  were  at  a  loss  as  to  what  they  should  do;  they 
stood  there  gazing  mechanically  up  at  the  windows  of  the  count- 
ing-house, from  which  all  decisions  were  commonly  issued.  Now 
and  again  an  impatient  shudder  ran  through  the  crowd,  as  it 
made  threats  toward  the  windows  and  demanded  what  was 
owing  it.  '^e  won't  give  us  the  wages  that  we've  honestly 
earned,  the  tyrant!"  they  cried.  ^'A  nice  thing,  truly,  when 
<me's  got  a  wife  and  kids  at  home,  and  on  a  Saturday  afternoon, 
tool  What  a  shark,  to  take  the  bread  out  of  their  mouths! 
Won't  the  gracious  gentleman  give  us  an  answer — ^just  his 
greeting,  so  that  we  can  take  it  home  with  us? — ^just  his  kind 
regards,  or  else  they'll  have  to  go  hungry  to  bed !"  And  they 
laughed,  a  low,  snarling  laugh,  spat  on  the  pavement,  and  once 


10  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROH 

more  turned  fheir  masterless  faces  up  to  the  conntmg-hoiise 
windows. 

Proposak  were  showered  upon  them,  proposals  of  every 
kind;  and  they  were  as  wise  as  they  were  before.  ^'What  the 
devil  are  we  to  do  if  there's  no  one  who  can  lead  us?''  they  said 
dejectedly,  and  they  stood  staring  again.  That  was  the  only 
thing  they  knew  how  to  do. 

^'Choose  a  few  of  your  comrades  and  send  them  in  to  ne- 
gotiate with  the  manufacturer,"  said  a  gentleman  standing  by. 

'^ear,  hear !  Forward  with  Eriksen !  He  understands  the 
deaf-and-dumb  alphabet  I"  they  shouted.  The  stranger  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and  departed. 

A  tall,  powerful  workman  approached  the  group,  ^^ave  you 
got  your  killer  with  you,  Eriksen?"  cried  one,  and  Eriksen 
turned  on  the  staircase  and  exhibited  his  clenched  fist. 

**Look  out!"  they  shouted  at  the  windows.  **Look  out  we 
don't  set  fire  to  the  place  I"  Then  all  was  suddenly  silent,  and 
the  heavy  house-door  was  barred. 

Pelle  listened  with  open  mouth.  He  did  not  know  what 
they  wanted,  and  they  hardly  knew,  themselves;  none  the  less, 
there  was  a  new  note  in  all  this  I  These  people  didn't  beg  for 
what  they  wanted;  they  preferred  to  use  their  fists  in  order  to 
get  it,  and  they  didn't  get  drunk  first,  like  the  strong  man 
Eriksen  and  the  rest  at  home.  ^'This  is  the  capital  I"  he 
thought,  and  again  he  congratulated  himself  for  having  come 
thither. 

A  squad  of  policemen  came  marching  up.  ''Boom  there  1" 
they  cried,  and  began  to  hustle  the  crowd  in  order  to  disperse 
it.  The  workmen  would  not  be  driven  away.  '*Not  before  we've 
got  our  wages!"  they  said,  and  they  pressed  back  to  the  gates 
again.  'This  is  where  we  work,  and  we're  going  to  have  our 
rights,  that  we  are  1"  Then  the  police  began  to  drive  the  on- 
lookers away;  at  each  onset  they  fell  back  a  few  steps,  hesitat- 
ing, and  then  stood  still,  laughing.  Pelle  received  a  blow  in 
the  back;  he  turned  quickly  round,  stared  for  a  moment  into 
the  red  face  of  a  policeman,  and  went  his  way,  muttering  and 
feeling  his  back. 

"Did  he  hit  you?"  asked  an  old  woman.  "Devil  take  him, 
the  filthy  lout!     He's  the  son  of  the  mangling-woman  what 


THE    GEEAT    STRUGGLE  11 

lives  in  the  hoiue  here,  and  now  he  takes  up*  the  cudgels 
against  his  own  people  I    Devil  take  himP 

''Move  on!'^  ordered  the  policeman,  winking,  as  he  pushed 
her  aside  with  his  body.  She  retired  to  her  cellar,  and  stood 
there  using  her  tongue  to  such  purpose  that  the  saliva  flew 
from  her  toothless  mouth. 

'Tes,  you  go  about  buDying  old  people  who  used  to  carry 
you  in  their  arms  and  put  dry  clouts  on  you  when  you  didn't 
know  enough  to  ask.  .  .  .  Are  you  going  to  use  your  truncheon 
on  me,  too?  Wouldn't  you  like  to,  Predrik?  Take  your  orders 
from  the  great  folks,  and  then  come  yelping  at  us,  because  we 
aren't  fine  enough  for  you  I"  She  was  shaking  with  rage;  her 
yellowish  gray  hair  had  become  loosened  and  was  tumbling 
about  her  face ;  she  was  a  perfect  volcano. 

The  police  marched  across  the  Knippel  Bridge,  escorted  by 
a  swarm  of  street  urchins,  who  yelled  and  whistled  between 
their  fingers.  From  time  to  time  a  policeman*  woxdd  turn 
round;  then  the  whole  swarm  took  to  its  heels,  but  next  mo- 
ment it  was  there  again.  The  police  were  nervous:  their  fin- 
gers were  opening  and  closing  in  their  longing  to  strike  out. 
They  looked  like  a  party  of  criminals  being  escorted  to  the 
court-house  by  the  extreme  youth  of  the  town,  and  the  people 
were  laughing, 

Pelle  kept  step  on  the  pavement.  He  was  in  a  wayward 
mood.  Somewhere  within  him  he  felt  a  violent  impulse  to 
give  way  to  that  absurd  longing  to  leap  into  the  air  and  beat 
his  head  upon  the  pavement  which  was  the  lingering  result  of 
his  illness.  But  now  it  assumed  the  guise  of  insolent  strength. 
He  saw  quite  plainly  how  big  Eriksen  ran  roaring  at  the  bailiff, 
and  how  he  was  struck  to  the  ground,  and  thereafter  wandered 
about  an  idiot.  Then  the  ''Great  Power"  rose  up  before  him, 
mighty  in  his  strength,  and  was  hurled  to  his  death;  they  had 
all  been  like  dogs,  ready  to  fall  on  him,  and  to  fawn  upon 
everything  that  smelt  of  their  superiors  and  the  authorities. 
And  he  himself,  Pelle,  had  had  a  whipping  at  the  court-house, 
and  people  had  pointed  the  finger  at  him,  just  as  they  pointed 
at  the  "Great  Power.**  "See,  there  he  goes  loafing,  the  scum 
of  humanity!"  Yes,  he  had  learned  what  righteousness  was, 
and  what  mischief  it  did.    But  now  he  had  escaped  from  the 


12  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

old  ezcommnnication^  and  had  entered  a  new  world,  where  re- 
spectable men  never  tamed  to  look  after  the  police,  but  left 
such  things  to  the  street  urchins  and  old  women.  There  was  a 
great  satisfaction  in  this;  and  Pelle  wanted  to  take  part  in 
this  world;  he  longed  to  understand  it. 

It  was  Saturday,  and  there  was  a  crowd  of  journeymen  and 
seamstresses  in  the  warehouse,  who  had  come  to  deUver  their 
work.  The  foreman  went  round  as  usual,  grumbling  over  the 
work,  and  before  he  paid  for  it  he  would  pull  at  it  and  crumple 
it  so  that  it  lost  its  shape,  and  then  he  made  the  most  infernal 
to-do  because  it  was  not  good  enough.  Now  and  again  he  would 
make  a  deduction  from  the  week's  wages,  averring  that  the  ma- 
terial was  ruined;  and  he  was  especially  hard  on  the  women, 
who  stood  there  not  daring  to  contradict  him.  People  said  he 
cheated  all  the  seamstresses  who  woxdd  not  let  him  have  his  way 
with  them. 

Pelle  stood  there  boiling  with  rage,  'flf  he  says  one  word 
to  me,  we  shall  come  to  blows  I''  he  thought.  But  the  foreman 
took  the  work  without  glancing  at  it — ah,  yes,  that  was  from 
Pipmanl 

But  while  he  was  paying  for  it  a  thick-set  man  came  for- 
ward out  of  a  back  room ;  this  was  the  court  shoemaker,  Meyer 
himself.  He  had  been  a  poor  young  man  with  barely  a  seat 
to  his  breeches  when  he  came  to  Copenhagen  from  (Germany  as 
a  wandering  journeyman.  He  did  not  know  much  about  his 
craft,  but  he  knew  how  to  make  others  work  for  him !  He  did 
not  answer  the  respectful  greetings  of  the  workers,  but  sta- 
tioned himself  before  Pelle,  his  belly  bumping  against  the 
counter,  wheezing  loudly  through  his  nose,  and  gazing  at  the 
young  man. 

*^ew  man?''  he  asked,  at  length.  '^That's  Pipman's  as- 
sistant,'* replied  the  foreman,  smiling.  *'Ah!  Pipman — ^he 
knows  the  trick,  eh  ?  You  do  the  work  and  he  takes  the  money 
and  drinks  it,  eh?"  The  master  shoemaker  laughed  as  at  an 
excellent  joke. 

Pelle  turned  red.  ^  should  like  to  be  independent  as  soon 
as  possible,"  he  said. 

'TTes,  yes,  you  can  talk  it  over  with  the  foreman;  but  no 
unionists  here,  mind  that!    We've  no  use  for  those  folka" 


THE    GBEAT   STBUGGLE  13 

Pelle  pressed  his  lips  together  and  pushed  the  cloth  wrapper 
into  the  breast  of  his  coat  in  silence.  It  was  all  he  could  do  not 
to  make  some  retort;  he  couldn't  approve  of  that  prohibition. 
He  went  out  quickly  into  Kobmager  Street  and  turned  out  of 
the  Coal  Market  into  Hauser  Street,  where,  as  he  knew,  the 
president  of  the  struggling  Shoemakers'  Union  was  living.  He 
found  a  little  cobbler  occupying  a  dark  cellar.  This  must  be 
the  man  he  sought;  so  he  ran  down  the  steps.  He  had  not 
understood  that  the  president  of  the  Union  would  be  found  in 
such  a  miserable  dwelling-place. 

Under  the  window  sat  a  hollow-cheeked  man  bowed  over  his 
bench,  in  the  act  of  sewing  a  new  sole  on  to  a  worn-out  shoe. 
The  legs  of  the  passers-by  were  just  above  his  head.  At  the 
back  of  the  room  a  woman  stood  cooking  something  on  the 
stove;  she  had  a  little  child  on  her  arm,  while  two  older  children 
lay  on  the  ground  playing  with  some  lasts.  It  was  frightfully 
hot  and  oppressive. 

^'Oood  day,  comrade  I^  said  Pelle.  ''Can  I  become  a  member 
of  the  Union?'' 

The  man  looked  up,  astonished.  Something  like  a  smile 
passed  over  his  mournful  face. 

''Can  you  indulge  yourself  so  farP*  he  asked  slowly.  "It 
may  prove  a  costly  pleasure.  Who  d'you  work  for,  if  I  may 
ask?'* 

"For  Meyer,  in  Kobmager  Street.'* 

"Then  youll  be  fired  as  soon  as  he  gets  to  know  of  it !'' 

"I  know  that  sure  enough;  all  the  same,  I  want  to  join  the 
Union.  He's  not  going  to  tell  me  what  I  can  and  what  I  can't 
do.    Besides,  we'll  soon  settle  with  him." 

"Thaf s  what  I  thought,  too.  But  there's  too  few  of 
us.  You'll  be  starved  out  of  the  Union  as  soon  as  you've 
joined." 

"We  must  see  about  getting  a  bit  more  numerous,"  said 
Pelle  cheerfully,  "and  then  one  fine  day  we'll  shut  up  shop  for 
himl" 

A  spark  of  life  gleamed  in  the  tired  eyes  of  the  president. 
*Tree,  devil  take  him,  if  we  could  only  make  him  shut  up  shop !" 
he  cried,  shaking  his  clenched  fist  in  the  air.  "He  tramples  on 
all  those  hereabouts  that  make  money  for  him ;  if s  a  shame  that 


14  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

I  should  sit  here  now  and  have  come  down  to  cobbling;  and  he 
keeps  the  whole  miserable  trade  in  poverty!*  Ah^  what  a  re- 
yenge^  comrade  I''  The  blood  rushed  into  his  hollow  cheeks 
until  they  burned,  and  then  he  b^an  to  cough.  'Tetersen  1" 
said  the  woman  anxiously,  supporting*  his  back.  'Tetersen  I'' 
She  sighed  and  shook  her  head,  while  she  helped  him  to  strug- 
gle through  his  fit  of  coughing.  ''When  the  talk's  about  the 
Court  shoemaker  Petersen  always  get^  like  one  possessed,'' 
she  said,  when  he  had  overcome  it.  ''He  really  don't  know 
what  he's  doing.  No — ^if  everybody  woxdd  only  be  as  clever 
as  Meyer  and  just  look  after  his  own  business,  then  certain 
people  would  be  sitting  there  in  good  health  and  earning  good 
money  I" 

"Hold  your  tongue!"  said  Petersen  angrily.  'TTou're  a 
woman — ^you  know  nothing  about  the  matter."-  At  which  the 
woman  went  back  to  her  cooking. 

Petersen  filled  out  a  paper,  and  Pelle  signed  his  name  to  it 
and  paid  Bis  subscription  for  a  week.  "And  now  you  must  try 
to  break  away  from  that  bloodsucker  as  soon  as  possible !"  said 
Petersen  earnestly.  "A  respectable  workman  cant  put  up  with 
such  things!" 

"I  was  forced  into  it,"  said  PeUc.  "And  I  learned  noth- 
ing of  this  at  home.    But  now  thaf  s  over  and  done  with." 

"Gtood,  comrade!  There's  my  hand  on  it — ^and  good  luck 
to  you!  We  must  work  the  cause  up,  and  perhaps  we  shall 
succeed  yet ;  I  tell  you,  you've  given  me  back  my  courage !  Now 
you  persuade  as  many  as  you  can,  and  don't  miss  the  meetings; 
theyTl  be  announced  in  The  Working  Man/'  He  shook  Pelle's 
hand  eagerly.  Pelle  took  a  brisk  walk  out  to  the  northward. 
He  felt  pleased  and  in  the  best  of  spirits. 

It  was  about  the  time  when  the  workers  are  returning  home ; 
they  drifted  along  singly  and  in  crowds,  stooping  and  loiter- 
ing, shufiSing  a  little  after  the  fatigue  of  the  day.  There  was 
a  whole  new  world  out  here,  quite  different  from  that  of  the 
"Ark."  The  houses  were  new  and  orderly,  built  with  level 
and  plumb-line;  the  men  went  their  appointed  ways,  and  one 
could  see  at  a  glance  what  each  one  was. 

This  quarter  was  the  home  of  socialism  and  the  new  ideas. 
Pelle  often  strolled  out  thither  on  holidays  in  order  to  get  a 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  16 

glimpse  of  these  things;  what  they  were  he  didnH  know,  and 
he  hadn't  dared  to  thrust  himself  forward,  a  stranger,  as  he 
still  felt  himself  to  be  there ;  bnt  it  all  attracted  him  powerfully. 
However,  to-day  he  forgot  that  he  was  a  stranger,  and  he 
went  onward  with  a  long,  steady  stride  that  took  him  oyer 
the  bridge  and  into  North  Bridge  Street.  Now  he  himself 
was  a  trades  unionist;  he  was  like  all  these  others,  he  could 
go  straight  up  to  any  one  if  he  wished  and  shake  him  by  the 
hand.  There  was  a  strong  and  peculiar  appeal  about  the  bear- 
ing of  these  people,  as  though  they  had  been  soldiers.  Invol- 
untarily he  fell  into  step  with  them,  and  felt  himself  stronger 
on  that  account,  supported  by  a  feeling  of  community.  He  felt 
solemnly  happy,  as  on  his  birthday;  and  he  had  a  feeling  as 
though  he  must  do  something.  The  public  houses  were  open, 
and  the  workmen  were  entering  them  in  little  groups.  But  he 
had  no  desire  to  sit  there  and  pour  spirits  down  his  throat. 
One  could  do  that  sort  of  thing  when  everything  had  gone 
to  the  dogs. 

He  stationed  himself  in  front  of  a  pastry  cook's  window, 
eagerly  occupied  in  comparing  the  different  kinds  of  cakes. 
He  wanted  to  go  inside  and  expend  five  and  twenty  ore  in 
celebration  of  the  day.  But  first  of  all  the  whole  affair  must 
be  properly  and  methodically  planned  out,  so  that  he  shoxdd 
not  be  disappointed  afterward.  He  must,  of  course,  have 
something  that  he  had  never  eaten  before,  and  that  was 
just  the  diflScult  part.  Many  of  the  cakes  were  hollow 
inside  too,  and  the  feast  would  have  to  serve  as  his  evening 
meaL 

It  was  by  no  means  easy,  and  just  as  Pelle  was  on  the 
point  of  solving  the  di£Sculty  he  was  startled  out  of  the  whole 
affair  by  a  slap  on  the  shoulder.  Behind  him  was  Morten, 
smiling  at  him  with  that  kindly  smile  of  his,  as  though  nothing 
had  gone  wrong  between  them.  Pelle  was  ashamed  of  himself 
and  could  not  find  a  word  to  say.  He  had  been  unfaithful 
to  his  only  friend;  and  it  was  not  easy  for  him  to  account 
for  his  behavior.  But  Morten  didn't  want  any  explanations; 
he  simply  shook  Pelle  by  the  hand.  His  pale  face  was  shining 
with  joy.  It  still  betrayed  that  trace  of  suffering  which  was 
80  touching,  and  Pelle  had  to  surrender  at  discretion,    '^ell. 


16  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

to  think  we  flhould  meet  here!''  he  cried,  and  laughed  good- 
naturedly. 

Morten  was  working  at  the  pastry  cook's,  and  had  been 
out;  now  he  was  going  in  to  get  some  sleep  before  the  nighfa 
work,  ^ut  come  in  with  me;  we  can  at  least  sit  and  talk 
for  half  an  hour;  and  you  shall  have  a  cake  too."  He  was 
just  the  same  as  in  the  old  days. 

They  went  in  through  the  gate  and  up  the  back  stairs; 
Morten  went  into  the  shop  and  returned  with  fiye  'Napoleons." 
'TTou  see  I  know  your  taste,"  he  said  laughing. 

Morten's  room  was  right  up  under  the  roof;  it  was  a  kind 
of  turret-room  with  windows  on  both  sides.  One  could  look 
out  oyer  the  endless  mass  of  roofs,  which  lay  in  rows,  one  be- 
hind the  other,  like  the  hotbeds  in  a  monstrous  nursery  garden. 
From  the  numberless  flues  and  chinmeys  rose  a  thin  bluish 
smoke,  which  lay  oppressively  over  all.  Due  south  lay  the 
Ealvebod  Strand,  and  further  to  the  west  the  hill  of  Frederiks- 
berg  with  its  castle  rose  above  the  mist.  On  the  opposite  side 
lay  the  Common,  and  out  beyond  the  chinmeys  of  the  lime- 
kilns glittered  the  Sound  with  its  many  sails.  ^Thaf  s  some- 
thing like  a  view,  eh  ?"  said  Morten  proudly. 

Pelle  remained  staring;  he  went  from  one  window  to  an- 
other and  said  nothing.  This  was  the  city,  the  capital,  for 
which  he  and  all  other  poor  men  from  the  farthest  comers 
of  the  land,  had  longed  so  boundlessly;  the  Fortunate  Land, 
where  they  were  to  win  free  of  poverty! 

He  had  wandered  through  it  in  all  directions,  had  mar- 
velled at  its  palaces  and  its  treasures,  and  had  found  it  to  be 
great  beyond  all  expectation.  Everything  here  was  on  the  grand 
scale;  what  men  built  one  day  they  tore  down  again  on  the 
morrow,  in  order  to  build  something  more  sumptuous.  So  much 
was  going  on  here,  surely  the  poor  man  might  somehow  make 
his  fortune  out  of  it  all! 

And  yet  he  had  had  no  true  conception  of  the  whole.  Now 
for  the  first  time  he  saw  the  City!  It  lay  there,  a  mighty 
whole,  outspread  at  his  feet,  with  palaces,  churches,  and  fac- 
tory chimneys  rising  above  the  mass  of  houses.  Down  in  the 
street  flowed  a  black,  unending  stream,  a  stream  of  people  con- 
tinually renewed,  as  though  from  a  mighty  ocean  that  could 


THE   GBEAT  STRUGGLE  &» 

« 

never  be  exhausted.  They  all  had  some  object;  one  could  not 
see  ity  but  really  they  were  running  along  like  ants,  each  bearing 
his  little  burden  to  the  mighty  heap  of  precious  things,  which 
was  gathered  together  from  aU  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

^^There  are  millions  in  all  this  I''  said  Pelle  at  last,  drawing 
a  deep  breath,  '^es/'  said  Morten  standing  beside  him. 
''And  ifs  all  put  togetiier  by  human  hands — by  the  hands  of 
working  people!'* 

Pelle  started.  That  was  a  wonderful  idea.  But  it  was 
true  enough,  if  one  thought  about  it 

''But  now  it  has  fallen  into  very  different  hands  I''  he  ex- 
claimed, laughing.  "Yes,  they've  got  it  away  from  us  by  trick- 
ery, just  as  one  wheedles  a  child  out  of  a  thing,''  cried  Mor- 
ten morosely.  "But  there's  no  real  efficiency  in  anything  that 
children  do— «nd  the  poor  have  never  been  anything  more  than 
children  I  Only  now  they  are  beginning  to  grow  up,  look  you, 
and  one  fine  day  theyHl  ask  for  their  own  back.'' 

"It  would  go  ill  with  us  if  we  went  and  tried  to  take  it  for 
Ourselves,"  said  Pelle. 

"Not  if  we  were  united  about  it — ^but  we  are  only  the  many.^ 

Pelle  listened;  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  the  ques- 
tion of  organization  was  so  stupendous.  Men  combined,  sure 
enough,  but  it  was  to  secure  better  conditions  in  their  trade. 

"You  are  like  your  father!"  he  said.  "He  always  had  big 
ideas,  and  wanted  to  get  his  rights.  I  was  thinking  about  him 
a  little  while  ago,  how  he  never  let  himself  be  trampled  on. 
Then  you  used  to  be  ashamed  of  him ;  but   «   •   •" 

Morten  hung  his  head.  "I  couldn't  bear  the  contempt  of 
respectable  folks,"  he  said  half  under  his  breath.  "I  imder- 
stood  nothing  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  destroying  our  home 
and  bringing  disgrace  on  us.  And  I  was  horribly  afraid,  too, 
when  he  began  to  lay  about  him;  I  wake  up  sometimes  now 
quite  wet  and  cold  with  sweat,  when  I've  been  dreaming  of  my 
childhood.  But  now  I'm  proud  that  I'm  the  son  of  the  'Great 
Power.'  I  haven't  much  strength  myself;  yet  perhaps  I'll  do 
something  to  surprise  the  city  folks  after  alL" 

"And  I  too  I" 

Power  I  It  was  really  extraordinary  that  Morten  should  be 
the  ion  of  the  giant  stone-cutter,  so  quiet  and  delicate  was  he. 


18  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

He  had  not  yet  quite  recovered  the  strength  of  which  Bodil 
had  robbed  him  in  his  early  boyhood;  it  was  as  though  that 
early  abuse  was  still  wasting  him. 

He  had  retained  his  girlish  love  of  comfort.  The  room 
was  nicely  kept;  and  there  were  actually  flowers  in  a  yase 
beneath  the  looking-glass.  Flowers^  good  Lord!  ^ow  did 
you  get  those?*'  asked  Pelle. 

'^Bought  them,  of  course  1'* 

Pelle  had  to  laugh.  Was  there  another  man  in  the  world 
who  would  pay  money  for  flowers? 

But  he  did  not  laugh  at  the  books.  There  seemed  to  be  a 
sort  of  mysterious  connection  between  them  and  Morten's  pe- 
culiar, still  energy.  He  had  now  a  whole  shelf  fulL  Pelle  took 
a  few  down  and  looked  into  them. 

''What  sort  of  stuflf  is  this,  now?'*  he  asked  doubtfully. 
'It  looks  like  learning  I*' 

'Those  are  books  about  us,  and  how  the  new  conditions 
are  coming,  and  how  we  must  make  ready  for  them/* 

"Ah,  youVe  got  the  laugh  of  me,**  said  Pelle.  "In  a  mo- 
ment of  depression  you*ye  got  your  book-learning  to  help  you 
along.  But  we  other  chaps  can  just  sit  where  we  are  and 
kick  our  heels.**    Morten  turned  to  him  hastily. 

"That*s  the  usual  complaint  I**  he  cried  irritably.  "A  man 
spits  on  his  own  class  and  wants  to  get  into  another  one.  But 
that*s  not  the  point  at  stake,  damn  it  all  I  We  want  to  stay 
precisely  where  we  are,  shoemakers  and  bakers,  all  together! 
But  we  must  demand  proper  conditions!  Scarcely  one  out  of 
thousands  can  come  out  on  top;  and  then  the  rest  can  sit 
where  they  are  and  gape  after  him !  But  do  you  believe  he*d 
get  a  chance  of  rising  if  it  wasn*t  that  society  needs  him — 
wants  to  use  him  to  strike  at  his  own  people  and  keep  them 
down?  ITow  you  can  see  for  yourself  what  a  poor  man  can 
do  if  he  likes!*  That*s  what  they  tell  you.  There*s  no  need 
to  blame  society. 

"No,  the  masses  themselves  are  to  blame  if  they  aren*t  all 
rich  men !  Good  God !  They  just  don*t  want  to  be !  So  they 
treat  you  like  a  fool,  and  you  put  up  with  it  and  baa  after 
them!  No,  let  them  all  together  demand  that  they  shall  re- 
ceive enough  for  their  work  to  live  on  decently.     I  say  a 


THE   6BEAT   STBU60LE  19 

m 

working  man  ought  to  get  as  much  for  his  work  as  a  doctor 
or  a  barrister,  and  to  be  educated  as  welL  That's  my  Lord's 
Prayer  P' 

*Tfow  Pve  set  you  off  finely  1'*  said  Pelle  good-naturedly. 
^And  ifs  just  the  same  as  what  your  father  was  raving  about 
when  he  lay  dying  in  the  shed.  He  lay  there  delirious,  and 
he  believed  the  ordinary  workman  had  got  pictures  on  the 
wall  and  a  piano,  just  like  the  fine  folks/' 

^^Did  he  say  that?"  cried  Morten,  and  he  raised  his  head. 
Then  he  fell  into  thought.  For  he  understood  that  longing. 
But  Felle  sat  there  brooding.  Was  this  the  ^^new  time"  all 
over  again?  Then  there  was  really  some  sense  in  banding 
people  together — ^yes,  and  as  many  as  possible. 

**I  don't  rightly  understand  it,"  he  said  at  last.  **But  to-day 
I  joined  the  trade  union.  I  shan't  stand  still  and  look  on  when 
there's  anything  big  to  be  done." 

Morten  nodded,  faintly  smiling.  He  was  tired  now,  and 
hardly  heard  what  Pelle  was  saying.  '^  must  go  to  bed  now 
80  that  I  can  get  up  at  one.  But  where  do  you  live  ?  Ill  come 
and  see  you  some  time.  How  queer  it  is  that  we  should  have 
run  across  one  another  here  I" 

^  live  out  in  Kristianshavn — ^in  the  ^Ark,'  if  you  know 
where  that  is  I" 

^^Thafs  a  queer  sort  of  house  to  have  tumbled  into!  I 
know  the  'Ark'  very  well,  ifs  been  so  often  described  in  the 
papers.    There's  all  sorts  of  people  live  there  1" 

**I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  said  Pelle,  half 
offended.  ^T,  like  the  people  well  enough.  .  .  .  But  ifs  capital 
that  we  should  have  run  into  one  another's  arms  like  thisl 
What  bit  of  luck,  eh?  And  I  behaved  like  a  clown  and  kept 
out  of  your  way?  But  that  was  when  I  was  going  to  the  dogs, 
and  hated  everybody!  But  now  nothing's  going  to  come  be- 
tween us  again,  you  may  lay  to  that  I" 

'TPhat's  good,  but  now  be  off  with  you,"  replied  Morten, 
amiUng;  he  was  already  half-undressed. 

^*m  going,  Vm  going  I"  said  Pelle,  and  he  picked  up  his 
hat,  and  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  out  over  the  city,  '^ut 
ifs  magnificent,  what  you  were  saying  about  things  just  now !" 
he  cried  suddenly,    '^f  I  had  the  strength  of  all  us  poor  folks 


20  PELLE  THE   CONQUEROR 

in  me,  I'd  break  out  right  away  and  conquer  the  whole  of  it  I 
If  audi  a  mass  of  wealth  were  shared  out  thereM  never  be  any 
poverty  any  morel'*  He  stood  there  with  his  arms  uplifted, 
as  though  he  held  it  all  in  his  hands.  Then  he  laughed  up- 
roariously. He  looked  full  of  'energy.  Morten  lay  half  asleep, 
staring  at  him  and  saying  nothing.    And  then  he  went. 

Pipman  scolded  Pelle  outrageously  when  at  last  he  returned. 
^Curse  it  all,  what  are  you  thinkiug  of?  To  go  strolling  about 
and  playing  the  duke  while  such  as  we  can  sit  here  working 
our  eyes  out  of  our  heads  1  And  we  have  to  go  thirsty  tool 
Now  don't  you  dream  of  being  insolent  to  me^  or  therell  be  an 
end  of  the  matter.    I  am  excessively  annoyed!" 

He  held  out  his  hand  in  pathetic  expostulation,  although 
Pelle  had  no  intention  of  answering  him.  He  no  longer  took 
Pipman  seriously.  'T)evil  fry  me,  but  a  man  must  sit  here 
and  drink  the  clothes  off  his  body  while  a  lout  like  you  goes 
for  a  stroU  1" 

Pelle  was  standing  there  counting  the  week's  earnings  when 
he  suddenly  burst  into  a  loud  laugh  as  his  glance  fell  upon 
Pipman.  His  blue  naked  shanks,  miserably  shivering  under 
his  leather  apron,  looked  so  enormously  ridiculous  when  con- 
trasted with  the  fully-dressed  body  and  the  venerable  beard. 

'TTes,  you  grin!"  said  Pipman,  laughing  too.  "But  sup- 
pose it  was  you  had  to  take  off  your  trousers  in  front  of  the 
old  clothes'  man,  and  wanted  to  get  upstairs  respectably  I  Those 
damned  brats!  Tipman's  got  D.  T.,'  they  yelL  Tipman's 
got  D.  T.  And  God  knows  I  haven't  got  D.  T.,  but  I  haven't 
got  any  trousers,  and  that's  just  the  trouble!  And  these  ac- 
cursed open  staircases  1  Olsen's  hired  girl  took  the  opportunity, 
and  you  may  be  sure  she  saw  all  there  was  to  see  I  You  might 
lend  me  your  old  bags  1" 

Pelle  opened  his  green  chest  and  took  out  his  work-day 
trousers. 

'Tou'd  better  put  a  few  more  locks  on  that  spinach-green 
lumber-chest  of  yours,"  said  Pipman  surily.  "After  all,  there 
might  be  a  thief  here,  near  heaven  as  we  are !" 

Pelle  apparently  did  not  hear  the  allusion,  and  locked  the 
chest  up  again.  Then,  his  short  pipe  in  his  hand,  he  strolled 
out  on  to  the  platform.     Above  tiie  roofs  the  twilight  was 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  21 

risiBg  from  the  Sound.  A  few  doves  were  flying  there,  catching 
the  last  red  rays  of  the  son  on  their  white  pinions,  while  down 
in  the  shaft  the  darkness  lay  like  a  hot  lilac  mist.  The  hurdy- 
gurdy  man  had  come  home  and  was  playing  his  evening  tune 
down  there  to  the  dancing  children,  while  the  inhabitants  of 
the  ^'Ark''  were  gossiping  and  squabbling  from  gallery  to  gal- 
lery. Now  and  again  a  faint  vibrating  note  rose  upward,  and 
an  fell  silent.  This  was  the  dwarf  Yinslev,  who  sat  playing 
his  flute  somewhere  in  his  den  deep  within  the  ^'Ark.''  He 
always  hid  himself  right  away  when  he  played,  for  at  such  times 
he  was  like  a  sick  animal,  and  sat  quaking  in  his  lair.  The 
notes  of  his  flute  were  so  sweet,  as  they  came  trickling  out  of 
his  hiding  place,  that  they  seemed  like  a  song  or  a  lament  from 
another  world.  And  the  restless  creatures  in  the  ''Ark'^  must 
perforce  be  silent  and  listen.  Now  Yinslev  was  in  one  of  his 
gentle  moods,  and  one  somehow  felt  better  for  hearing  hinu 
But  at  times,  in  his  dark  moods,  the  devil  seemed  to  enter  into 
him,  and  breathed  such  music  into  his  crazy  mind  that  all  his 
hearers  felt  a  panic  terror.  Then  the  decaying  timbers  of  the 
^AriL''  seemed  to  expand  and  form  a  vast  monstrous,  pitch- 
black  forest,  in  which  all  terror  lay  lurking,  and  one  must 
Btrike  out  blindly  in  order  to  avoid  being  trampled  on.  The 
hearse-dnver  in  the  fourth  story,  who  at  other  times  was  so 
gentle  in  his  cups,  would  beat  his  wife  shamefully,  and  the 
two  lay  about  in  their  den  drinking  and  fightii^  in  self* 
defence.  And  Yinslev's  devilish  flute  was  to  blame  when  Johnson 
vainly  bewailed  his  miserable  life  and  ended  it  xmder  the  sewdr- 
grating.  But  there  was  nothing  to  be  said  about  the  matter; 
Yinslev  played  the  flute,  and  Johnsen's  suicide  was  a  death  like 
any  other. 

Now  the  devil  was  going  about  with  a  ring  in  his  nose; 
Yinslev^s  playing  was  like  a  gentle  breeze  that  played  on  peo- 
ple's hearts,  so  that  they  opened  like  flowers.  This  was  his 
good  time. 

Pelle  knew  all  this,  although  he  had  not  long  been  here; 
but  it  was  nothing  to  him.  For  he  wore  the  conqueror's  shirt 
of  mail,  such  as  Father  Lasse  had  dreamed  of  for  him. 

Down  in  the  third  story,  on  the  built-out  gallery,  another 
sort  of  magic  was  at  work.    A  climbing  pelargonium  and  some 


22  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOR 

ivy  had  wound  themselves  round  the  broken  beams  and  met 
overhead^  and  there  hung  a  little  red  paper  lantern^  which  cast 
a  cheerful  glow  over  it  alL 

It  was  as  though  the  summer  night  had  found  a  sanctuary 
in  the  heart  of  this  wilderness  of  stone.  Under  the  lantern 
sat  Madam  Johnsen  and  her  daughter  sewing;  and  Hanne's 
face  glowed  like  a  rose  in  the  night,  and  every  now  and  then 
she  turned  it  up  toward  Pelle  and  smiled,  and  made  an  im- 
patient movement  of  her  head.  Then  Pelle  turned  away  a  little, 
re-crossed  his  leg,  and  leant  over  on  the  other  side,  restless  as 
a  horse  in  blinkers. 

Close  behind  him  his  neighbor.  Madam  Frandsen,  was 
bustling  about  her  little  kitchen.  The  door  stood  open  on  to 
the  platform,  and  she  chattered  incessantly,  half  to  herself  and 
half  to  Pelle,  about  her  gout,  her  dead  husband,  and  her  lout 
of  a  son.  She  needed  to  rest  her  body,  did  this  old  woman. 
^^My  Ood,  yes;  and  here  I  have  to  keep  slaving  and  getting  his 
food  ready  for  Ferdinand  from  morning  to  night  and  from 
night  to  morning  again.  And  he  doesn't  even  trouble  himself 
to  come  home  to  it.  I  can't  go  looking  into  his  wild  ways; 
all  I  can  do  is  to  sit  here  and  worry  and  keep  his  meals  warm. 
Now  thafs  a  tasty  little  bit;  and  he'll  soon  come  when  he's 
hungry,  I  tell  myself.  Ah,  yes,  our  young  days,  they're  soon 
gone^  And  you  stand  there  and  stare  like  a  baa-lamb  and  the 
girl  down  there  is  nodding  at  you  fit  to  crick  her  neck  1  Yes, 
the  men  are  a  queer  race;  they  pretend  they  wouldn't  dare — 
and  yet  who  is  it  causes  all  the  misfortunes?" 

**She  doesn't  want  anything  to  do  with  me!"  said  Pelle 
grumpily;  *'she's  just  playing  with  me." 

'^es,  a  girl  goes  on  playing  with  a  white  mouse  until  she 
gets  it!  Tou  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  stand  there  hanging 
your  head!  So  young  and  well-grown  as  you  are  tool  You 
cut  her  tail-feathers  off,  and  youll  get  a  good  wifel"  She 
nudged  him  in  the  side  with  her  elbow. 

Then  at  last  Pelle  made  up  his  mind  to  go  clattering  down 
the  stairs  to  the  third  story,  and  along  the  gallery. 

^'Why  have  you  been  so  stand-ofBsh  to-day?"  said  Madam 
Johnsen,  making  room  for  him.  ''You  know  you  are  always 
very  welcome.    What  are  all  these  preliminaries  for?" 


THE   GBBAT   STBUGGLE  23 

'Telle  is  short-sighted;  he  canH  see  as  far  as  this^'^  said 
Hanne^  tossing  her  head.  She  sat  there  turning  her  head 
about;  she  gazed  at  him  smiling^  her  head  thrown  back  and 
her  month  open.    The  light  fell  on  her  white  teeth. 

''Shall  we  get  fine  weather  to-morrow?'*  asked  the  mother. 

Pelle  thought  they  would;  he  gazed  up  at  the  little  speck 
of  sky  in  a  weather-wise  manner.    Hanne  laughed. 

"Are  you  a  weather-prophet^  Pelle?  But  you  haven't  any 
corns  P 

"Now  stop  your  teasing,  child  !**  said  the  mother,  pretending 
to  slap  her.  "If  if  s  fine  to-morrow  we  want  to  go  into  the 
woods.    Will  you  come  with  us?*' 

Pelle  would  be  glad  to  go ;  but  he  hesitated  slightly  before 
answering. 

"Come  with  us,  Pelle,''  said  Hanne,  and  she  laid  her  hand 
invitingly  on  his  shoulder.  "And  then  you  shall  be  my  young 
man.  It's  so  tedious  going  to  the  woods  with  the  old  lady; 
and  then  I  want  to  be  able  to  do  as  I  like."  She  made  a 
chaUenging  movement  with  her  head. 

"Then  well  go  from  the  North  Gate  by  omnibus;  I  dont 
care  a  bit  about  going  by  train." 

'Trom  the  North  Gate?  But  it  doesn't  exist  any  longer, 
mummy!  But  there  are  still  omnibuses  running  from  the 
Triangle." 

"Well  then,  from  the  Triangle,  you  clever  one!  Can  I 
help  it  if  they  go  pulling  everything  down?  When  I  was  a 
girl  that  North  Gate  was  a  splendid  place.  From  there  you 
could  get  a  view  over  the  country  where  my  home  was,  and 
the  summer  nights  were  never  so  fine  as  on  the  wall.  One 
didn't  know  what  it  was  to  feel  the  cold  then.  If  one's  clothes 
were  thin  one's  heart  was  yoimg." 

Hanne  went  into  the  kitchen  to  make  coffee.  The  door 
stood  open*  She  hummed  at  her  task  and  now  and  again 
joined  in  the  conversation.  Then  she  came  out,  serving  Pelle 
with  a  cracked  tea-tray.  "But  you  look  very  peculiar  to- 
night !"    She  touched  Pelle's  face  and  gazed  at  hhn  searchingly. 

"I  joined  the  trade  imion  to-day,"  answered  Pelle;  he  still 
had  the  feeling  that  of  something  unusual,  and  felt  as  though 
everybody  must  notice  something  about  him. 


24  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

Hanne  burst  out  laughing,  ^^s  that  where  you  got  that  black 
sign  6n  your  forehead?  Just  look^  mother^  just  look  at  him! 
The  trade  mark  V*    She  turned  her  head  toward  the  old  woman. 

"Ah,  the  rogue  1'*  said  the  old  woman,  laughing.  '*Now 
she's  smeared  soot  over  your  facel*'  She  wetted  her  apron 
with  her  tongue  and  began  to  rub  the  soot  away,  Hanne  stand- 
ing behind  him  and  holding  his  head  in  both  hands  so  that  he 
should  not  move.  '^Thank  your  stars  that  Pelle's  a  good- 
natured  fellow,'*  said  the  old  woman,  as  she  rubbed.  "Or  else 
he'd  take  it  in  bad  parti" 

Pelle  himself  laughed  shamefacedly. 

The  hearse-driver  came  up  through  the  trap  in  the  gallery 
and  turned  round  to  mount  to  the  fourth  story.  "Good  even- 
ing I"  he  said,  in  his  deep  bass  voice,  as  he  approached  them; 
"and  good  digestion,  too,  I  ought  to  say !"  He  carried  a  great 
ham  under  his  arm. 

'Tjord  o'  my  body!"  whisp^*ed  Madam  Johnsen.  "There 
he  is  again  with  his  ham;  that  means  he's  wasted  the  whole 
week's  wages  again.  They've  always  got  more  than  enough 
ham  and  bacon  up  there,  poor  things,  but  they've  seldom  got 
bread  as  well." 

Now  one  sound  was  heard  in  the  "Ark,"  now  another.  The 
crying  of  children  which  drifted  so  mournfully  out  of  the  long 
corridors  whenever  a  door  was  opened  turned  to  a  feeble  cluck- 
ing every  time  some  belated  mother  came  rushing  home  from 
work  to  clasp  the  little  one  to  her  breast.  And  there  was  one 
that  went  on  crying  whether  the  mother  was  at  home  or  at 
work.    Her  milk  had  failed  her. 

From  somewhere  down  in  the  cellars  the  sleepy  tones  of  a 
cradle-song  rose  up  through  the  shaft;  it  was  only  "Grete  with 
the  child,"  who  was  singing  her  rag-doll  asleep.  The  real 
mothers  did  not  sing. 

"She's  always  bawling  away,"  said  Hanne;  "those  who've 
got  real  children  haven't  got  strength  left  to  sing.  But  her 
brat  doesn't  need  any  food;  and  that  makes  a  lot  of  difference 
when  one  is  poor." 

"To-day  she  was  washing  and  ironing  the  child's  things  to 
make  her  fine  for  to-morrow,  when  her  father  comes.  He  is  a 
lieutenant,"  said  Hanne. 


THE   GEEAT   STEUGGLE  26 

^8  he  coming  to-morrow^  then?^  asked  Pelle  naively. 

Hanne  laughed  loudly.  ''She  expects  him  every  Snnday, 
but  she  has  never  seen  him  yetl^' 

''Well,  well,  thaf  s  hardly  a  thing  to  laugh  abonty''  said 
the  old  woman.  "She's  happy  in  her  delusions,  and  her  pen- 
sion keeps  her  from  need.'* 


m 

Pbllb  awoke  to  find  Hanne  standing  by  his  bed  and  pulling 
his  nose^  and  imitating  his  comical  grimaces.  She  had  come 
in  over  the  roof.  **Why  are  you  stopping  here,  yon?*'  she  said 
eagerly.    ''We  are  waiting  for  you !'' 

'1  can't  get  upl*'  replied  Pelle  piteously.  'Tipman  went 
out  overnight  with  my  trousers  on  and  hasn't  come  back,  so 
I  lay  down  to  sleep  again !''  Hanne  broke  into  a  ringing  laugh. 
'^What  if  he  never  comes  back  at  aU?  YouTl  have  to  lie  in 
bed  always,  like  Mother  Jahn  V* 

At  tMs  Pelle  laughed  too. 

'1  really  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  I  You  must  just  go 
without  me." 

''No,  that  we  shan't  I"  said  Hanne  very  decidedly.  "No, 
well  fetch  the  picnic-basket  and  spread  the  things  on  your 
coimterpanel  After  all,  ifs  green!  But  wait  now,  I  know 
what  I"  And  she  slipped  through  the  back  door  and  out  on 
to  the  roof.  Half  an  hour  later  she  came  again  and  threw 
a  pair  of  striped  trousers  on  the  bed.  "He's  obliging,  is  Herr 
Klodsmajor!  Now  just  hurry  yourself  a  bit.  I  ran  round 
to  see  the  hearse-driver's  Marie,  where  she  works,  and  she  gave 
me  a  pair  of  her  master's  week-day  breeches.  But  she  must 
have  them  again  early  to-morrow  morning,  so  that  his  lordship 
doesn't  notice  it." 

Directly  she  had  gone  Pelle  jumped  into  the  trousers.  Just 
as  he  was  ready  he  heard  a  terrific  creaking  of  timbers.  The 
Pipman  was  coming  up  the  stairs.  He  held  the  rope  in  one 
hand,  and  at  every  turn  of  the  staircase  he  bowed  a  few  times 
outward  over  the  rope.  The  women  were  shrieking  in  the 
surroimding  galleries  and  landings.    That  amused  him. 

2« 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  27 

big,  venerable  head  beamed  with  an  expression  of  sublime  joy. 

^Ah,  hold  your  tongue  I''  he  said  good-naturedly,  as  soon  as 
he  set  eyes  on  Pelle.  **You  hold  your  tongue  I'*  He  propped 
himself  up  in  the  doorway  and  stood  there  staring. 

Pelle  seized  him  by  the  collar.  ''Where  are  my  Sunday 
trousers?^  he  asked  angrily.  The  Pipman  had  the  old  ones 
on,  but  where  were  the  new? 

The  Pipman  stared  at  him  imeomprehending,  his  drowsy 
features  working  in  the  effort  to  disinter  some  memory  or 
other.  Suddenly  he  whistled.  *T]*rouser8,  did  you  say,  yoimg 
man?  What,  what?  Did  you  really  say  trousers?  And  you 
ask  me  where  your  trousers  have  got  to?  Then  you  might 
have  said  so  at  once!  Because,  d'you  see,  your  bags  .  .  •  I've 
•  •  .  yes  •  .  .  why,  Pve  pawned  them!*' 

'Tou've  pawned  my  best  trousers?''  cried  Pelle,  so  startled 
that  he  loosed  his  hold. 

*Tes,  by  God,  that's  what  I  did !  You  can  look  for  your- 
self— ^there's  no  need  to  get  so  hot  about  it  I  You  can't  eat 
me,  you  know.  That  goes  without  saying.  Yes,  that's  about 
it.    One  just  mustn't  get  excited  1" 

'TTou're  a  scoundrelly  thief!"  cried  Pelle.  "Thafs  what 
you  are!" 

'*Now,  now,  comrade,  always  keep  cool !  Don't  shout  your- 
self hoarse.  Nothing's  been  taken  by  me.  Pipman's  a  respect- 
able man,  I  tell  you.  Here,  you  can  see  for  yourself !  Whatll 
you  give  me  for  that,  eh?"  He  had  taken  the  pawnticket  from 
his  pocket  and  held  it  out  to  Pelle,  deeply  offended. 

PeDe  fingered  his  collar  nervously;  he  was  quite  beside  him- 
self with  rage.  But  what  was  the  use?  And  now  Hanne  and 
her  mother  had  come  out  over  yonder.  Hanne  was  wearing  a 
yellow  straw  hat  with  broad  ribbons.  She  looked  bewitching; 
the  old  lady  had  the  lunch-basket  on  her  arm.  She  locked  the 
door  carefully  and  put  the  key  under  the  doorstep.  Then  they 
set  out. 

There  was  no  reasoning  with  this  sot  of  a  Pipman!  He 
edged  round  Pelle  with  an  uncertain  smile,  gazed  inquisitively 
into  his  face,  and  kept  carefully  just  out  of  his  reach.  'TTou're 
angry,  aren't  you?"  he  said  confidingly,  as  though  he  had  been 
speaking  to  a  little  child.    'Dreadfully  angry?    But  what  the 


28  PELLE  THE   CONQXJEBOB 

devil  ao  you  want  with  two  pairs  of  trousers,  comrade?  Yes, 
what  do  you  want  with  two  pairs  of  trousers?^  His  Yoice 
sounded  quite  bewildered  and  reproachful 

Pelle  pulled  out  a  pair  of  easy-looking  women's  shoes  from 
under  his  bed,  and  slipped  out  through  the  inner  door.  He 
squeezed  his  way  between  the  steep  roof  and  the  back  wall  of 
the  joom,  ducked  under  a  beam  or  two,  and  tumbled  into  the 
long  gangway  which  ran  between  ihe  roof-buildings  and  had 
rooms  on  either  side  of  it.  A  loud  buzzing  soxmd  struck  sud- 
denly on  his  ears.  The  doors  of  all  the  little  rooms  stood 
open  on  to  the  long  gangway,  which  served  as  a  common  living- 
room.  Wrangling  and  chattering  and  the  crying  of  children 
surged  together  in  a  deafening  uproar;  here  was  the  Ufe  of  a 
bee-hive.  Here  ifs  really  lively,  thought  Pelle.  To-morrow  I 
shall  move  over  here!  He  had  thought  over  this  for  a  long 
time,  and  now  there  should  be  an  end  of  his  lodging  with 
Pipman. 

In  front  of  one  of  the  doors  stood  a  little  eleven-years-old 
maiden,  who  was  polishing  a  pair  of  plump-looking  boy's  boots; 
she  wore  an  apron  of  sacking  which  fell  down  below  her  ankles, 
so  that  she  kept  treading  on  it.  Within  the  room  two  children 
of  nine  and  twelve  were  moving  backward  and  forward  with 
mighty  strides,  their  hands  in  their  pockets.  Then  enjoyed 
Simdays.  In  tiieir  clean  shirt-sleeves,  ^ey  looked  like  a  couple 
of  little  grown-up  men.  This  was  the  ^Family'';  they  were 
Pellets  rescuers. 

^ere  are  your  shoes,  Marie,''  said  Pelle.  ^  couldn't  do 
them  any  better." 

She  took  them  eagerly  and  examined  the  soles.  Pelle  had 
repaired  them  with  old  leather,  and  had  therefore  polished  the 
insteps  with  cobbler's  wax.  ^'They're  splendid  now  1"  she  whis- 
pered, and  she  looked  at  him  gratefully.  The  boys  came  and 
shook  hands  with  Pelle.  ''What  will  the  shoes  cost?"  asked 
the  elder,  feeling  for  his  purse  with  a  solemn  coxmtenance. 

''We'd  better  let  that  stand  over,  Peter;  I'm  in  a  hurry 
to-day,"  said  Pelle,  laughing.  "Well  put  it  on  the  account  until 
the  New  Year." 

"I'm  going  out,  too,  to-day  with  the  boys,"  said  Marie^ 
beaming  with  deUght.    "And  you  are  going  to  the  woods  with 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  29 

Hanne  and  ber  mother^  we  know  all  about  it!''  Hopping  and 
skipping^  she  accompanied  him  to  the  steps,  and  stood  laughing 
down  at  him.  To-day  she  was  really  like  a  child;  the  shrewdy 
old,  careful  woman  was  as  though  cast  to  the  winds,  '^ou  can 
go  down  the  main  staircase/^  she  cried. 

A  narrow  garret-stairs  led  down  to  the  main  staircase,  which 
lay  ingide  the  building  and  was  supposed  to  be  used  only  by 
ihoee  who  lived  on  the  side  facing  the  street.  This  was  the 
fashionable  portion  of  the  '^Ark*';  here  lived  old  sea-dogs,  ship- 
builders, and  other  folks  with  regular  incomes.  The  trades- 
m^L  who  rented  the  cellars — ^the  coal  merchant,  the  old  iron 
merchant,  and  the  old  clothes  dealer,  also  had  tiieir  dwellings 
here. 

These  dwellings  were  composed  of  two  splendid  rooms;  they 
had  no  kitchen  or  entry,  but  in  a  comer  of  the  landing  on  the 
main  staircase,  by  the  door,  each  family  had  a  sink  with  a  little 
board  cover.  When  the  cover  was  on  one  could  use  the  sink  as 
a  seat;  this  was  very  convenient. 

The  others  had  almost  reached  the  Enippels  Bridge  when 
he  overtook  thenu  ''What  a  long  time  you've  been  1'*  said  Hanne, 
as  she  took  his  arm.  "And  how's  the  'Family?'  Was  Marie 
pleased  with  the  shoes?  Poor  little  thing,  she  hasn't  been  out 
for  two  Sxmdays  because  she  had  no  soles  to  her  shoes." 

"She  had  only  to  come  to  me;  I'm  ever  so  much  in  her 
debt!" 

"No,  don't  you  believe  she'd  do  that.  The  Tamily'  is 
proud.    I  had  to  go  over  and  steal  the  shoes  somehow !" 

"Poor  little  things  1"  said  Madam  Johnsen,  "if  s  really  touch- 
ing to  see  how  they  hold  together!  And  they  know  how  to 
get  along.  But  why  are  you  taking  Belle's  arm,  Hanne  ?  You 
don't  mean  anything  by  it." 

"Must  one  always  mean  something  by  it,  little  mother? 
Pelle  is  my  yoxmg  man  to-day,  and  has  to  protect  me." 

"Good  Lord,  what  is  he  to  protect  you  from?  From  your- 
self, mostly,  and  thaf  s  not  easy !" 

"Against  a  horde  of  robbers,  who  wiU  fall  upon  me  in  the 
forest  and  carry  me  away.  And  youll  have  to  pay  a  tremendous 
ransom!" 

"Good  Lord,  I'd  much  rather  pay  money  to  get  rid  of  you  I 


30  PELLB   THE   CONQUBBOB 

If  I  had  any  money  at  alll  But  have  you  noticed  how  blue 
the  sky  is?  It's  splendid  with  all  this  sun  on  your  back — it 
warms  you  right  through  the  cockles  of  your  hearf 

At  the  Triangle  they  took  an  omnibus  and  bowled  along 
the  sea-froni  The  vehicle  was  full  of  cheerful  folk;  they  sat 
there  laughing  at  a  couple  of  good-natured  citizens  who  were 
perspiring  and  hurling  silly  witticisms  at  one  another.  Behind 
them  the  dust  rolled  threateningly,  and  hung  in  a  lazy  cloud 
round  the  great  black  waterbutts  which  stood  on  their  high 
trestles  along  the  edge  of  the  road.  Out  in  the  Sound  the  boats 
lay  with  sails  outspread,  but  did  not  move;  everything  was 
keeping  the  Sabbath. 

In  the  Zoological  Gardens  it  was  fresh  and  cool.  The  beech- 
leaves  still  retained  their  youthful  brightness,  and  looked  won- 
derfully light  and  festive  against  the  century-old  tnmks.  '^eigh, 
how  beautiful  the  forest  is!''  cried  PeUe.  ^?t  is  like  an  old 
giant  who  has  taken  a  yoimg  bride  1^' 

He  had  never  been  in  a  real  beech-wood  before.  One  could 
wander  about  here  as  in  a  church.  There  were  lots  of  other 
people  here  as  well;  all  Copenhagen  was  on  its  legs  in  this  fine 
weather.  The  people  were  as  though  intoxicated  by  the  sun- 
shine ;  they  were  quite  boisterous,  and  the  sound  of  tiieir  voices 
lingered  about  thet  tree-tops  and  only  chaUenged  them  to  give 
vent  to  their  feelings.  People  went  strolling  between  the  tree- 
trunks  and  amusing  themselves  in  their  own  way,  laying  about 
them  with  great  boughs  and  shouting  with  no  other  object  than 
to  hear  their  own  voices.  On  the  borders  of  the  wood  a  few 
men  were  standing  and  singing  in  chorus;  they  wore  white  caps^ 
and  over  the  grassy  meadows  merry  groups  were  strolling  or 
playing  touch  or  rolling  in  the  grass  like  young  kittens. 

Madam  Johnsen  walked  confidently  a  few  steps  in  advance; 
she  was  the  most  at  home  out  here  and  led  the  way.  Pelle  and 
Hanne  walked  close  together,  in  order  to  converse.  Hanne  was 
silent  and  absent;  Pelle  took  her  hand  in  order  to  make  her 
run  up  a  hillock,  but  she  did  not  at  first  notice  that  he  was 
touching  her,  and  the  hand  was  limp  and  clammy.  She  walked 
on  as  in  a  sleep,  her  whole  bearing  lifeless  and  taciturn.  '^She's 
dreaming  I''  said  Pelle,  and  released  her  hand,  offended.  It  fell 
lifelessly  to  her  aide. 


THE   GREAT  STEUGGLE  81 

The  old  woman  tamed  round  and  looked  about  her  with 
beaming  eyes. 

'The  forest  hasn't  been  so  splendid  for  many  years/'  she 
said.    ''Not  since  I  was  a  young  girl." 

They  climbed  up  past  ihe  Hermitage  and  thence  out  over 
the  grass  and  into  the  forest  again^  until  they  came  to  the  little 
ranger's  house  where  they  drank  coffee  and  ate  some  of  the 
bread-and-butter  they  had  brought  with  them.  Then  they 
trudged  on  again.  Madam  Johnsen  was  paying  a  rare  visit 
to  the  forest  and  wanted  to  see  eyer3rthing.  The  young  people 
raised  objections,  but  she  was  not  to  be  dissuaded.  She  had 
girlhood  memories  of  the  forest,  and  she  wanted  to  renew 
them;  let  them  say  what  they  would.  If  they  were  tired  of 
running  after  her  they  could  go  their  own  way.  But  they 
followed  her  faithfully,  looking  about  them  wearily  and  mov- 
ing along  dully  onward,  moving  along  rather  more  stupidly 
than  was  justifiable. 

On  the  path  leading  to  Baavad  there  were  not  so  many 
people. 

"Ifs  just  as  forest-like  here  as  in  my  young  days!"  said 
the  old  woman.  "And  beautiful  it  is  here.  The  leaves  are 
so  dose,  if s  just  the  place  for  a  loving  couple  of  lovers. 
Now  I'm  going  to  sit  down  and  take  my  boots  off  for  a 
bit,  my  feet  are  beginning  to  hurt  me.  You  look  about  you 
for  a  bit." 

But  the  young  people  looked  at  one  another  strangely  and 
threw  themselves  down  at  her  feet.  She  had  taken  off  her 
boots,  and  was  cooling  her  feet  in  the  fresh  grass  as  she  sat 
there  chatting.  "If s  so  warm  to-day  the  stones  feel  quite 
burning — ^but  you  two  certainly  won't  catch  fire.  Why  do  you 
stare  in  that  funny  way?  Give  each  other  a  kiss  in  ihe  grass, 
now  I    There's  no  harm  in  it,  and  if  s  so  pretty  to  see !" 

Pelle  did  not  move.  But  Hanne  mov^  over  to  him  on  her 
knees,  put  her  hands  gently  roimd  his  head,  and  kissed  him. 
When  die  had  done  so  she  looked  into  his  eyes,  lovingly,  as  a 
child  might  look*  at  her  dolL  Her  hat  had  slipped  on  to  her 
shoulders.  On  her  white  forehead  and  her  upper  lip  were  little 
clear  drops  of  sweat.  Then,  with  a  merry  laugh,  she  sud- 
denly released  him.     Pelle  and  the  old  woman  had  gathered 


82  PELLE   THE   CONQXJEROR 

flowers  and  boughs  of  foliage;  these  fhey  now  began  to  arrange. 
Hanne  lay  on  her  back  and  gazed  np  at  the  sky. 

'^on  leave  that  old  staring  of  yonrs  alone,''  said  the  mother. 
''It  does  yon  no  good.'* 

'T[*m  only  playing  at  'Glory*;  ifs  such  a  height  here/'  said 
Hanne.  "But  at  home  in  the  'Ark'  you  see  more.  Here  if  a 
too  light" 

"Yes,  God  knows,  one  does  see  more — a  sewer  and  two 
privies.  A  good  thing  if  s  so  dark  there.  No,  one  ought  to 
have  enough  money  to  be  able  to  go  into  the  forests  every  Sun- 
day all  the  summer.  When  one  has  grown  up  in  the  open  air  if  s 
hard  to  be  penned  in  between  dirty  walls  all  one's  life.  But  now 
I  think  we  ought  to  be  going  on.    We  waste  so  much  time." 

"Oh  Lord,  and  I'm  so  comfortable  lying  here !"  said  Hanne 
lazily.    'Telle,  just  push  my  shawl  under  my  head  I" 

Out  of  the  boughs  high  above  them  broke  a  great  bird. 
"There,  there,  what  a  chapl"  cried  Pelle,  pointing  at  it.  It 
sailed  slowly  downward,  on  its  mighty  outspread  wings,  now 
and  again  compressing  the  air  beneath  it  witii  a  few  powerful 
strokes,  and  then  flew  onward,  close  above  the  tree-tops,  with 
a  scrutinizing  glance. 

"Jiminy,  I  believe  that  was  a  stork!"  said  Madam  John- 
sen.  She  reached  for  her  boots,  alarmed.  "I  won't  stay  here 
any  longer  now.  One  never  knows  what  may  happen."  She 
hastily  laced  up  her  boots,  with  a»  prudish  expression  on  her 
face.    Pelle  laughed  until  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes. 

Hanne  raised  her  head.  "That  was  surely  a  crane,  don't 
you  think  so  ?  Stupid  bird,  always  to  fly  along  like  that,  staring 
down  at  everything  as  though  he  were  shori-sighted.  If  I  were 
he  I  should  fly  straight  up  in  the  air  and  then  shut  my  eyes 
and  come  swooping  down.  Then,  wherever  one  got  to,  some- 
thing or  other  wo^d  happen." 

"Sure  enough,  this  would  happen,  that  you'd  fall  into  the 
sea  and  be  drowned.  Hanne  has  always  had  the  feeling  that 
something  has  got  to  happen;  and  for  tiiat  reason  she  can 
never  hold  on  to  what  she's  got  in  her  hands." 

"No,  for  I  haven't  anything  in  them  I"  cried  Hanne,  showing 
her  hands  and  laughing.  "Can  you  hold  what  you  havent  got, 
Pelle?" 


THE   GBBAT   STRUGGLE  38 

About  four  o'clock  they  came  to  the  Schleswig  Stone,  where 
the  Social-Democrats  were  holding  a  meeting.  Pelle  had  never 
yet  attended  any  big  meeting  at  which  he  could  hear  agitators 
speaking,  but  had  obtained  his  ideas  of  the  new  movements  at 
second  hand.  They  were  in  tune  with  the  blind  instinct  within 
him.  But  he*  had  never  experienced  anything  really  electrifying 
— only  that  confused,  monotonous  surging  such  as  he  had  heard 
in  his  childhood  when  he  listened  with  his  ear  to  the  hollow  of 
the  wooden  shoe. 

*WeU,  it  looks  as  if  the  whole  society  was  here!*'  said 
Madam  Johnsen  half  contemptuously,  '^ow  you  can  see  all 
tiie  Social-Democrats  of  Copenhagen.  They  never  have  been 
more  numerous,  although  they  pretend  the  whole  of  society 
belongs  to  them.  But  things  don't  always  go  so  smoothly 
as  ifaey  do  on  paper.'' 

Pelle  frowned,  but  was  silent.  He  himself  knew  too  little 
of  the  matter  to  be  able  to  convert  another. 

The  crowd  afEected  him  powerfully;  here  were  several  thou- 
sands of  people  gathered  together  for  a  common  object,  and 
it  became  exceedingly  clear  to  him  that  he  himself  belonged 
to  this  crowd.  ^  belong  to  them  too !"  Over  and  over  again 
the  words  repeated  themselves  rejoicingly  in  his  mind.  He  felt 
the  need  to  verify  it  all  himself,  and  to  prove  himself  grateful 
for  the  quickly-passing  day.  If  the  Court  shoemaker  hadn't 
spoken  the  words  that  drove  him  to  join  the  Union  he  would 
still  have  been  standing  apart  from  it  all,  like  a  heathen.  The 
act  of  subscribing  the  day  before  was  like  a  baptism.  He  felt 
quite  different  in  the  society  of  these  men — ^he  felt  as  he  did 
not  feel  with  others.  And  as  the  thousands  of  voices  broke 
into  song,  a  song  of  jubilation  of  the  new  times  that  were 
to  come,  a  cold  shudder  went  through  him.  He  had  a  feeling 
as  though  a  door  within  him  had  opened,  and  as  though  some- 
thing that  had  lain  closely  penned  within  him  had  found  its 
way  to  the  light. 

Up  on  the  platform  stood  a  darkish  man  talking  earnestly 
in  a  mighty  voice.  Shoulder  to  shoulder  the  crowd  stood  breath- 
less, listening  open-mouthed,  with  every  face  turned  fixedly 
upon  the  speistker.  A  few  were  so  completely  under  his  spell 
that  they  reproduced  the  play  of  his  features.    'Sfhea  he  made 


34  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

Bome  particniar  sally  from  his  citadel  a  murmur  of  admiration 
ran  through  the  crowd.  There  was  no  shouting*  He  spoke 
of  want  and  poverty^  of  the  wearisome,  endless  wandering  that 
won  no  further  forward.  As  the  Israelites  in  their  faith  bore 
the  Ark  of  the  Covenant  through  the  wilderness,  so  the  poor 
bore  their  hope  through  the  imf ruitful  years.  If  one  division 
was  overthrown  another  was  ready  with  the  carrying-staves, 
and  at  last  the  day  was  breaking.  Now  they  stood  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  Promised  Land,  with  the  proof  in  their  hands 
that  they  were  the  rightful  dwellers  therein.  All  that  was 
quite  a  matter  of  course;  if  there  was  anything  that  PeUe  had 
experienced  it  was  that  wearisome  wandering  of  God's  people 
through  the  wilderness^  That  was  the  great  symbol  of  poverty. 
The  words  came  to  him  like  something  long  familiar.  But  the 
greatness  of  the  man's  voice  affected  Pelle;  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  speech  of  this  man  which  did  not  reach  him  through 
the  understanding,  but  seemed  somehow  to  burn  its  way  in 
through  the  skin,  there  to  meet  something  that  lay  expanding 
within  him.  The  mere  ring  of  anger  in  his  voice  affected 
Pelle;  his  words  beat  upon  one's  old  wounds,  so  that  they  broke 
open  like  poisonous  ulcers,  and  one  heaved  a  deep  breath  of 
relief.  Pelle  had  heard  such  a  voice,  ringing  over  all,  when 
he  lived  in  the  fields  and  tended  cows.  He  felt  as  though 
he  too  must  let  himself  go  in  a  great  shout  and  subdue  the 
whole  crowd  by  his  voice — ^he  too!  To  be  able  to  speak 
like  that,  now  thundering  and  now  mild,  like  the  ancient 
prophets  I 

A  peculiar  sense  of  energy  was  exhaled  by  this  dense  crowd 
of  men,  this  thinking  and  feeling  crowd.  It  produced  a  sin- 
gular feeling  of  strength.  Pelle  was  no  longer  the  poor  jour- 
neyman shoemaker,  who  found  it  d^cult  enough  to  make  his 
way.  He  became  one,  as  he  stood  there,  with  that  vast  being; 
he  felt  its  strength  swelling  within  him;  the  little  finger  shares 
in  the  strength  of  the  whole  body.  A  blind  certainty  of  irre- 
sistibility went  out  from  this  mighty  gathering,  a  spur  to  ride 
the  storm  with.  His  limbs  swelled;  he  became  a  vast,  mon- 
strous being  that  only  needed  to  go  trampling  onward  in  order 
to  conquer  everything..  His  brain  was  whirling  with  energy, 
with  illimitable,  unconquerable  strength! 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  36 

Pelle  had  before  this  gone  soaring  on  high  and  had  come 
safely  to  earth  again.  And  this  time  also  he  came  to  groand^ 
with  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  as  though  he  had  cast  off  a  heavy 
burden.  Hanne's  arm  lay  in  his;  he  pressed  it  slightly.  But 
she  did  notice  him;  she  too  now  was  far  away.  He  looked  at 
her  pretty  neck,  and  bent  forward  to  see  her  fai^e.  The  great 
yellow  hat  ^ew  a  golden  glimmisr  oyer  it  Her  active  intelli- 
gence played  restlessly  behind  her  strained,  frozen  features;  her 
eyes  looked  fixedly  before  her.  It  has  taken  hold  of  her  too, 
he  thought,  full  of  happiness;  she  is  far  away  from  here.  It 
was  something  wondeiiul  to  know  that  they^  were  coupled  to- 
gether in  the  same  interests — were  like  man  and  wife! 

At  that  very  moment  he  accidentally  noticed  the  direction 
of  her  fixed  gaze,  and  a  sharp  pain  ran  through,  his  heart. 
Standing  on  the  level  ground,  quite  apart  from  the  crowd, 
stood  a  tall,  handsome  man,  astonishingly  like  the  owner  of 
Stone  Farm  in  his  best  ^ays;  the  sunlight  was  coming  and 
going  over  his  brown  skin  and  his  soft  beard.  Now  that  he 
turned  his  face  toward  Pelle  his  big,  open  features  reminded 
him  of  the  sea. 

Hanne  started,  as  though  awakening  from  a  deep  sleep, 
and  noticed  Pelle. 

'fHe  is  a  sailor!^  she  said,  in  a  curious,  remote  voice, 
although  Pelle  had  not  questioned  her.  God  knows,  thought 
Pelle,  vexedly,  how  is  it  she  knows  him;  and  he  drew  his  arm 
from  hers.  But  she  took  it  again  at  once  and  pressed  it  against 
her  soft  bosom.  It  was  as  though  she  suddenly  wanted  to  give 
him  a  feeling  of  security. 

She  himg  heavily  on  his  arm  and  stood  with  her  eyes  fixed 
unwaveringly  on  the  speakers'  platform.  Her  hands  busied 
themselves  nervously  about  her  hair,  ^ou  are  so  restless, 
child,''  said  the  mother,  who  had  seated  herself  at  their  feet, 
^ou  might  let  me  lean  back  against  your  knee;  I  was  sitting 
so  comfortably  before." 

'^es,"  said  Hanne,  and  she  put  herself  in  the  desired 
position.    Her  voice  soimded  quite  excited. 

Telle,"  she  whispered  suddenly,  "if  he  comes  over  to  us  I 
shan't  answer  him.    I  shan't." 

'*Do  you  know  him,  then?" 


86  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOR 

^0^  but  it  does  happen  sometimes  that  men  qome  and  speak 
to  one.    But  then  you'll  say  I  belong  to  you,  won't  you  P* 

Pelle  was  going  to  refuse,  but  a  shudder  ran  through  her. 
She's  feverish,  he  thought  compassionately;  one  gets  fever  so 
easily  in  the' "Ark."  It  comes  up  with  the  smeU  out  of  the 
sewer.  She  must  have  lied  to  me  nicely,  he  thought  after  a 
while.  Women  are  cunning,  but  he  was  too  proud  to  question 
her.  And  then  the  crowd  shouted  'hurrah!"  so  that  the  air 
rang.  Pelle  shouted  with  them;  and  when  they  had  finished 
the  man  had  disappeared.  ' 

They  went  over  to  the  HUl,  the  old  woman  keeping  her 
few  steps  in  advance.  Hanne  hummed  as  she  went;  now  and 
then  she  looked  questioningly  at  Pelle — and  then  went  on 
hiunming. 

*1fs  nothing  to  do  with  me,'*  said  Pelle  morosely.  *^uf s 
if  s  not  right  of  you  to  have  lied  to  me." 

'r[  lie  to  you?  But  Pelle  1"  She  gazed  wonderingly  into 
his  eyes. 

'TTes,  that  you  do  1    There's  something  between  you  and  him.** 

Hanne  laughed,  a  clear,  innocent  laugh,  but  suddenly  broken 
off.  'TJo,  Pelle,  no,  what  should  I  have  to  do  with  him?  I 
have  never  even  seen  him  before.  I  have  never  even  once  kissed 
a  man — ^yes,  you,  but  you  are  my  brother." 

^  don't  particdarly  care  about  being  your  brother — ^not  a 
straw,  and  you  know  iiiatl" 

*^ave  I  done  anything  to  offend  you?  I'm  sorry  if  I  have.** 
She  seized  his  hand. 

'*I  want  you  for  my  wife !"  cried  Pelle  passionately. 

Hanne  laughed.  ^fDid  you  hear,  mother?  Pelle  wants  me 
for  his  wife  I"  she  cried,  beaming. 

^es,  I  see  and  hear  more  than  you  think,"  said  Madam 
Johnsen  shortly. 

Hanne  looked  from  one  to  the  other  and  became  serioua. 
*Tou  are  -so  good,  Pelle,"  she  said  softly,  'T)ut  you  can't  come 
to  me  bringing  me  something  from  foreign  parts — ^I  know 
everything  about  you,  but  I've  never  dreamed  of  you  at  night. 
Are  you  a  fortunate  person?" 

'711  soon  show  you  if  I  am,"  said  Pelle,  raising  his  head. 
''Only  give  me  a  little  time." 


THE   GBEAT  STEUGGLE  87 

^'Lord,  now  flhe's  blethering  about  fortune  again^''  cried  the 
mother,  turning  round,  '^ou  really  needn't  have  spoiled  this 
lovely  day  for  us  with  your  nonsense.   I  was  enjoying  it  aU  so." 

Hanne  laughed  helplessly.  'Mother  will  have  it  that  Vm 
not  quite  right  in  my  mind,  because  father  hit  me  on  the  head 
once  when  I  was  a  little  girl,''  she  told  Pelle. 

^^es,  ifs  dince  then  she's  had  these  ideas.  Shell  do  noth- 
ing but  go  rambling  on  at  random  with  her  ideas  and  her 
wishes.  Shell  sit  whole  days  at  the  window  and  stare,  and 
she  used  to  make  the  children  down  in  the  yard  even  crazier 
than  herself  with  her  nonsense.  And  she  was  always  both- 
ering me  to  leave  everything  standing — ^poor  as  we  were  after 
my  man  died— gust  to  go  round  and  round  the  room  with  her 
and  the  dolls  and  sing  those  songs  all  about  earls.  Yes,  Pelle, 
you  may  believe  I've  wept  tears  of  blood  over  her." 

Hanne  wandered  on,  laughing  at  her  mother's  rebuke,  and 
humming — ^it  was  the  tune  of  the  "Earl's  Song." 

^There,  you  hear  her  yourself,"  said  the  old  woman,  nudging 
Pelle.  ''She's  got  no  shame  in  her — ^there's  nothing  to  be  done 
with  her  I" 

Up  on  the  hill  there  was  a  deafening  confusion  of  people 
in  playful  mood;  wandering  to  and  fro  in  groups,  blowing  into 
children's  trumpets  and  ''dying  pigs,"  and  behaving  like  froUc- 
flome  wild  beasts.  At  every  moment  some  one  tooted  in  your 
ear,  to  make  you  jimip,  or  you  suddenly  discovered  that  some 
rogue  was  fixing  something  on  the  ba^  of  your  coat.  Hanne 
was  nervous;  she  kept  between  Pelle  and  her  mother,  and  could 
not  stand  stilL  "No,  let's  go  away  somewhere — ^anywhere  I"  she 
said,  laughing  in  bewilderment.  / 

Pelle  wanted  to  treat  them  to  coffee,  so  they  went  on  tiU 
they  foxmd  a  tent  where  there  was  room  for  them.  Hallo! 
There  was  the  hurdy-gurdy  man  from  home,  on  a  roundabout, 
nodding  to  him  as  he  went  whirling  round.  He  held  his  hand 
in  front  of  his  mouth  like  a  speaking-trumpet  in  order  to  shout 
above  the  noise.  "Mother's  coming  up  behind  you  with  the 
Olsens,"  he  roared. 

"I  can't  hear  what  he  says  at  all,"  said  Madam  Johnsen. 
She  didn't  care  about  meeting  people  out  of  the  "Ark"  to-day. 

yihsn.  the  coffee  was  finished  tiiey  wandered  up  and  down 


38  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

between  the  booths  and  amused  themsdves  by  watching  the 
crowd.  Hanne  consented  to  have  her  fortune  told;  it  cost  five 
and  twenty  ore,  but  she  Aras  rewarded  by  an  unexpected  suitor 
who  was  coming  across  the  sea  with  lots  of  money.  Her  eyes 
shone. 

^  could  have  done  it  much  better  than  that !''  said  Madam 
Johnsen. 

^0^  mother,  for  you  never  foretell  me  anything  but  mis- 
fortune/' replied  Hanne,  laughing. 

Madam  Johnsen  met  an  acquaintance  who  was  selling  ''dying 
pigs.'*  She  sat  down  beside  her.  '*You  go  over  there  now 
and  have  a  bit  of  a  dance  v^hile  I  rest  my  tired  legs,^  she 
said. 

The  young  people  went  across  to  the  dancing  marquee  and 
stood  among  the  onlookers.  From  time  to  time  they  had  five 
ore  worth  of  dancing.  When  other  men  came  up  and  asked 
Hanne  to  dance,  she  shook  her  head;  she  did  not  care  to  dance 
with  any  one  but  Pelle. 

The  rejected  applicants  stood  a  little  way  off,  their  hats  on 
the  backs  of  their  heads,  and  reviled  her.  Pelle  had  to  reprove 
her.  'TTou  have  offended  them,*'  he  said,  ''and  perhaps  they're 
screwed  and  will  begin  to  quarrel.^' 

"Why  should  I  be  forced  to  dance  with  anybody,  with  some- 
body I  don't  know  at  all?*'  replied  Hanne.  'Tm  only  going 
to  dance  with  you!''  She  made  angry  eyes,  and  looked  be- 
witching in  her  unapproachableness.  Pelle  had  nothing  against 
being  her  only  partner.  He  would  gladly  have  fought  for  her, 
had  it  been  needfuL 

When  they  were  about  to  go  he  discovered  the  foreigner 
right  at  the  back  of  the  dancing-tent.  He  urged  Hanne  to 
make  haste,  but  she  stood  there,  staring  absent-mindedly  in  the 
midst  of  the  dancers  as  though  she  did  not  know  what  was  hap- 
pening around  her.  The  stranger  came  over  to  them.  Pelle 
was  certain  that  Hanne  had  not  seen  him. 

Suddenly  she  came  to  herself  and  gripped  Pelle's  arm. 
^'Shan't  we  go,  then?"  she  said  impatiently,  and  she  quickly 
dragged  him  away. 

At  the  doorway  the  stranger  came  to  meet  them  and  bowed 
before    Hanne.      She   did    not   look   at   him,   but   her   left 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLfi  dd 

aim  twitched  as  though  she  wanted  to  lay  it  across  his  shoul- 
ders. 

**My  sweetheart  isn't  dancing  any  more;  she  is  tired/'  said 
Pelle  diortly,  and  he  led  her  away. 

•'A  good  thing  we've  come  out  from  there/'  she  cried^  with 
a  feeling  of  deliverance,  as  they  went  back  to  her  mother. 
•Tliere  were  no  amusing  dancers." 

Pelle  was  taken  aback ;  then  she  had  not  seen  the  stranger, 
but  merely  believed  that  it  had  been  one  of  the  others  who  had 
asked  her  to  dance !  It  was  inconceivable  that  she  should  have 
seen  him;  and  yet  a  peculiar  knowledge  had  enveloped  her,  as 
though  she  had  seen  obliquely  through  her  down-dropped  eye- 
lids; and  then  it  was  well  known  women  could  see  roxmd  cor^ 
ners  I  And  that  twitch  of  the  arm !  He  did  not  know  what  to 
think,  '^ell,  it's  all  one  to  me/'  he  thought,  ''for  I'm  not 
going  to  be  led  by  the  nose  1" 

He  had  them  both  on  his  arm  as  they  returned  under  the 
trees  to  the  station.  The  old  woman  was  lively;  Hanne  walked 
on  in  silence  and  let  them  both  talk.  But  suddenly  she  begged 
Pelle  to  be  quiet  a  moment;  he  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

^fs  singing  so  beautifully  in  my  ears;  but  when  you  talk 
then  it  stops !" 

Nonsense!  Your  blood  is  too  xmruly,"  said  the  mother, 
''and  mouths  were  meant  to  be  used." 

During  the  journey  Pelle  was  reserved.  Now  and  again  he 
pressed  Hanne's  hand,  which  lay,  *warm  and  slightly  perspir- 
ing, in  his  upon  the  seat. 

But  the  old  woman's  delight  was  by  no  means  exhausted,  the 
light  shining  from  the  city  and  the  dark  peaceful  Sound  had 
their  message  for  her  secluded,  life,  and  she  began  to  sing,  in  a 
thin,  quavering  falsetto: 

''Gently  the  Night  upon  her  silent  wings 
Comes,  and  the  stars  are  bright  in  east  and  west; 
And  lo,  the  bell  of  evening  rings; 
And  moi  draw  homewards,  and  the  birds  all  rest" 

But  from  the  Triangle  onward  it  was  difScult  for  her  to 
keep  step;  she  had  run  herself  off  her  legs. 

''Many  thanks  for  to-day,"  she  said  to  Pelle,  down  in  the 
courtyard.    *TPo-morrow  one  must  start  work  again  and  clean 


40  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

old  unifonn  trousers.  But  if s  been  a  beautiful  outing.''  She 
waddled  forward  and  up  the  steps^  groaning  a  little  at  the 
numbers  of  them^  talking  to  herself. 

Hanne  stood  hesitating.  '*Why  did  you  say  *my  sweet- 
hearfP'  she  asked  suddenly.    **I'm  not'* 

'TTou  told  me  to,**  answered  Pelle,  who  would  willingly  have 
said  more. 

^Oh^  well  \"  said  Hanne^  and  she  ran  up  the  stairs.  ^£k>od- 
nighty  Pelle  P  she  called  down  to  him. 


IV 

PxLLB  iras  bound  to  the  ^amily^  by  peculiar  ties.  The 
three  orphans  were  the  first  to  reach  him  a  friendly  helping 
hand  when  he  stood  in  the  open  street  three  days  after  his 
landing,  robbed  of  his  last  penny. 

He  had  come  over  feeling  important  enough.  He  had  not 
slept  all  night  on  his  bench  between  decks  among  the  cattle. 
Excitement  had  kept  him  awake ;  and  he  lay  there  making  far- 
reaching  plans  concerning  himself  and  his  twenty-five  kroner. 
He  was  np  on  deck  by  the  first  light  of  morning,  gazing  at  the 
shore,  where  the  great  capital  with  its  towers  and  factory-chim- 
neys showed  out  of  the  mist.  Above  the  city  floated  its  misty 
light,  which  reddened  in  the  morning  sun,  and  gave  a  splendor 
to  the  prospect.  And  the  passage  between  the  forts  and  the 
naval  harbor  was  sufficiently  magnificent  to  impress  him.  The 
crowd  on  the  landing-stage  before  the  steamer  laid  alongside 
and  the  cabmen  and  porters  began  shouting  and  calling,  was 
enough  to  stupefy  hun,  but  he  had  made  up  his  mind  before- 
hand that  nothing  should  disconcert  him.  It  would  have  been 
difficult  enough  in  any  case  to  disentangle  himself  from  all  this 
confusion. 

And  then  Fortune  herself  was  on  his  side.  Down  on  the  quay 
stood  a  thick-set,  jovial  man,  who  looked  familiarly  at  Pelle; 
he  did  not  shout  and  bawl,  but  merely  said  quietly,  ^Qood-day, 
countryman,''  and  offered  Pelle  board  and  lodging  for  two 
kroner  a  day.  It  was  good  to  find  a  countryman  in  all  this 
bustle,  and  Pelle  confidingly  put  himself  in  his  hands.*  He  was 
remarkably  helpful;  Pelle  was  by  no  means  allowed  to  carry 
the  green  chest  'VYL  soon  have  that  brought  along !''  said  the 
man,  and  he  answered  everything  with  a  joUy  '^11  soon  arrange 
that;  you  just  leave  tiiat  to  me  1'' 

41 


42  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROE 

When  three  days  had  gone  by^  he  presented  Pelle  with  a 
circmnstantial  aceonnt^  which  amounted  exactly  to  five  and 
twenty  kroner.  It  was  a  corions  chance  that  Pelle  had  just  that 
amount  of  money.  He  was  not  willing  to  be  done  out  of  it>  but 
the  boarding-house  keeper^  Elleby,  called  in  a  policeman  ifrom 
the  street^  and  Pelle  had  to  pay. 

He  was  standing  in  the  street  with  his  green  box,  helpless 
and  bewildered,  not  knowing  what  to  be  about.  Then  a  little 
boy  came  whistling  up  to  him  and  asked  if  he  could  not  help 
him.  'T  can  easily  carry  the  box  alone,  to  wherever  you  want  it, 
but  it  will  cost  twenty-five  ore  and  ten  ore  for  the  barrow.  But 
if  I  just  take  one  handle  it  will  be  only  ten  ore/'  he  said,  and 
he  looked  Pelle  over  in  a  business-like  manner.  He  did  not  seem 
to  be  more  than  nine  or  ten  years  old. 

''But  I  don't  know  where  I  shall  go,**  said  Pelle,  almost  cry- 
ing. '1*ve  been  turned  out  on  the  street  and  have  nowhere 
where  I  can  turn.  I  am  quite  a  stranger  here  in  the  city  and 
all  my  money  has  been  taken  from  me.'' 

The  youngster  made  a  gesture  in  the  air  as  though  butting 
something  with  his  head.  Yes,  that's  a  cursed  business. 
You've  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  farmer-catchers,  my  lad. 
So  you  must  come  home  with  us — ^you  can  very  well  stay  with 
us,  if  you  don't  mind  lying  on  the  floor." 

*TBut  what  will  your  parents  say  if  you  go  dragging  me 
home  ?" 

'1  haven't  any  parents,  and  Marie  and  Peter,  theyTl  say 
nothing.  Just  come  with  me,  and,  after  all,  you  can  get  work 
with  old  Pipman.    Where  do  you  come  from?" 

'Trom  Bomholm." 

''So  did  we !  That's  to  say,  a  long  time  ago,  when  we  were 
quite  children.  Come  along  with  me,  countryman !"  The  boy 
laughed  delightedly  and  seized  one  handle  of  the  chest. 

It  was  also,  to  be  sure,  a  fellow-countryman  who  had  robbed 
him;  but  none  the  less  he  went  with  the  boy;  it  was  not  in 
Pelle's  nature  to  be  distrustful. 

So  he  had  entered  the  "Ark,"  under  the  protection  of  a 
child.  The  sister,  a  little  older  than  the  other  two,  found  little 
Earl's  action  entirely  reasonable,  and  the  three  waifs,  who  had 
formerly  been  shy  and  retiring,  quickly  attached  themselves  to 


THE    GREAT   STEUGGLE  43 

Pelle.  They  found  him  in  the  street  and  treated  him  like 
an  elder  comrade^  who  was  a  stranger^  and  needed  protection. 
They  afforded  him  his  first  glimpse  of  the  great  city,  and  they 
helped  him  to  get  work  from  Pipman. 

On  the  day  after  the  outing  in  the  forest^  Pelle  moved  oyer 
to  the  row  of  attics,  into  a  room  near  the  "Family/'  which  was 
standing  empty  just  then.  Marie  helped  him  to  get  tidy  and 
to  bring  his  things  along,  and  with  an  easier  mind  he  shook 
himself  free  of  his  burdensome  relations  with  Pipman.  There 
was  an  end  of  his  profit-sharing,  and  all  the  recriminations 
which  were  involved  in  it.  Now  he  could  enter  into  direct  rela- 
tions with  the  employers  and  look  his  comrades  straight  in  the 
eyes.  For  various  reasons  it  had  been  a  humiliating  time;  but 
he  had  no  feeling  of  resentment  toward  Pipman;  he  had 
learned  more  with  him  in  a  few  months  than  during  his  whole 
apprenticeship  at  home. 

He  obtained  a  few  necessary  tools  from  an  ironmonger,  and 
bought  a  bench  and  a  bed  for  ready  money.  From  the  master- 
shoemaker  he  obtained  as  a  beginning  some  material  for  chil- 
dren's shoes,  whic];i  he  made  at  odd  times.  His  principal  living 
he  got  from  Master  Beck  in  Market  Street. 

Beck  was  a  man  of  the  old  school;  his  clientele  consisted 
principally  of  night  watchmen,  pilots,  and  old  seamen,  who  lived 
out  in  Kristianshavn.  Although  he  was  bom  and  had  grown  up 
in  Copenhagen,  he  was  like  a  country  shoemaker  to  look  at, 
going  about  in  canvas  slippers  which  his  daughter  made  for 
him,  and  in  the  mornings  he  smoked  his  long  pipe  at  the  house- 
door.  He  had  old-fashioned  views  concerning  handwork,  and 
was  delighted  with  Pelle,  who  could  strain  any  piece  of  greased 
leather  and  was  not  afraid  to  strap  a  pair  of  old  dubbin'd  boots 
with  it.  Beck's  work  could  not  well  be  given  out  to  do  at  home, 
and  Pelle  willingly  established  himself  in  the  workshop  and  was 
afraid  of  no  work  that  came  his  way.  But  he  would  not  accept 
bed  and  board  from  his  master  in  the  old-fashioned  way. 

From  the  very  first  day  this  change  was  an  improvement. 
He  worked  heart  and  soul  and  began  to  put  by  something  with 
which  to  pay  off  his  debt  to  Sort.  Now  he  saw  the  day  in  the 
distance  when  he  should  be  able  to  send  for  Father  Lasse. 

In  the  morning,  when  the  dwellers  on  the  roof,  dnmken 


44  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOR 

with  sleep,  tumbled  out  into  the  long  gangway,  in  order  to  gd 
to  their  work,  before  the  quarter-to-eiz  whistle  sounded,  Pelle 
already  sat  in  his  room  hammering  on  his  cobbler's  last  About 
seven  o'clock  he  went  to  Beck's  workshop,  if  there  was  anything 
for  him  to  do  there.  And  he  received  orders  too  from  the  dweU- 
ers  in  the  "Ark.*' 

In  connection  with  this  work  he  acquired  an  item  of  prac- 
tical experience,  an  idea  which  was  like  a  fruitful  seed  which 
lay  germinating  where  it  fell  and  continually  produced  fresh 
fruit.  It  was  equivalent  to  an  improvement  in  his  circum- 
stances to  discover  that  he  had  shaken  off  one  parasite;  if  only 
he  could  send  the  other  after  him  and  keep  all  his  promts  for 
himself  I 

That  sounded  quite  fantastic,  but  Pelle  had  no  desire  to 
climb  up  to  the  heights  only  to  fall  flat  on  the  earth  again.  He 
had  obtained  certain  tangible  experience,  and  he  wanted  to 
know  how  far  it  would  take  him.  While  he  sat  there  working 
he  pursued  the  question  in  and  out  among  his  thoughts,  so 
that  he  could  properly  consider  it. 

Pipman  was  superfluous  as  a  middleman;  one  could  get  a 
little  work  without  the  necessity  of  going  to  him  and  pouring 
a  flask  of  brandy  down  his  thirsty  gullet.  But  was  it  any  more 
reasonable  that  the  shoes  Pelle  made  should  go  to  the  customer 
by  way  of  the  Court  shoemaker  and  yield  him  carriages  and 
high  living?  Gould  not  Pelle  himself  establish  relations  with 
his  customers?  And  shake  off  Meyer  as  he  had  shaken  off 
Pipman?  Why,  of  course!  It  was  said  that  the  Court  shoe- 
maker paid  taxes  on  a  yearly  income  of  thirty  thousand  kroner. 
''That  ought  to  be  evenly  divided  among  all  those  who  work 
for  him!"  thought  Pelle,  as  he  hammered  away  at  his  pegs. 
'Then  Father  Lasse  wouldn't  need*  to  stay  at  home  a  day 
longer,  or  drag  himself  through  life  so  miserably." 

Here  was  something  which  he  could  take  in  hand  with  the 
feeling  that  he  was  setting  himself  a  practical  problem  in  eco- 
nomics— and  one  that  apparently  had  nothing  to  do  with  his 
easy  belief  in  luck.  This  idea  was  always  lurking  somewhere  in 
secrecy,  and  held  him  upright  through  everything — although  it 
did  not  afford  him  any  deflnite  assistance.  A  hardly  earned  in- 
stinct told  him  that  it  was  only  among  poor  people  that  this 


THE   QEEAT   STBUGGLE  46 

idea  could  be  developed.  This  belief  was  his  family  inheritance^ 
and  he  would  retain  it  faithfully  through  all  vicissitudes;  as 
millions  had  done  before  him^  idways  ready  to  cope  with  the 
unknown,  until  they  reached  the  grave  and  resigned  the  inher- 
ited dreun.  There  lay  hope  for  himself  in  this,  but  if  he  mis- 
carried, the  hope  itself  would  remain  in  spite  of  him.  With 
Fortune  there  was  no  definite  promise  of  tangible  success  for 
the  individual,  but  only  a  general  promise,  which  was  main- 
tained through  hxmdreds  of  years  of  servitude  with  son^ething 
of  the  long  patience  of  eternity. 

Pelle  bore  the  whole  endless  wandering  within  himself;  it 
lay  deep  in  his  heart,  like  a  great  and  incomprehensible  patience. 
In  his  world,  capacity  was  often  great  enough,  but  resignation 
was  alwajrs  greater.  It  was  thoroughly  accustomed  to  see  every- 
thing go  to  ruin  and  yet  to  go  on  hoping. 

Often  enough  during  the  long  march,  hope  had  assumed 
tones  like  those  of  'TDavid's  City  with  streets  of  gold,*'  or  'Tar- 
adise,^^  or  ''The  splendor  of  the  Lord  returns.''  He  himself  had 
questioningly  given  ear;  but  never  until  now  had  the  voice  of 
hope  sounded  in  a  song  that  had  to  do  with  food  and  clothing, 
house  and  farm;  so  how  was  he  to  find  his  way? 

He  could  only  sit  and  meditate  the  problem  as  to  how  he 
should  obtain,  quickly  and  easily,  a  share  in  the  good  things  of 
this  world;  presumptuously,  and  with  an  impatience  for  which 
he  himself  could  not  have  accoxmted. 

And  round  about  him  things  were  happening  in  the  same 
way.  An  awakening  shudder  was  passing  through  the  masses. 
They  no  longer  wandered  on  and  on  with  blind  and  patient 
surrender,  but  turned  this  way  and  that  in  bewildered  consul- 
tation. The  miracle  was  no  longer  to  be  accomplished  of  itself 
when  the  time  was  fulfilled.  For  an  evil  power  had  seized 
upon  their  great  hope,  and  pressed  her  knees  together  so  that 
she  could  not  bring  forth;  they  themselves  must  help  to  bring 
happiness  into  the  world ! 

The  unshakable  fatalism  which  hitherto  had  kept  them  on 
their  difficult  path  was  shattered;  the  masses  would  no  longer 
aUow  themselves  to  be  held  down  in  stupid  resignation.  Men 
who  all  their  lives  had  plodded  their  accustomed  way  to  and 
from  their  work  now  stood  still  and  asked  unreasonable  ques- 


46  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOE 

tions  as  to  the  aim  of  it  all.  Even  the  simple  ventured  to  cast 
doubts  upon  the  established  order  of  things.  Things  were  no 
longer  thus  because  they  must  be;  there  was  a  painful  cause  of 
poverty.  That  was  the  beginning  of  the  matter;  and  now  they 
conceived  a  desire  to  master  life;  their  fingers  itched  to  be 
tearing  down  something  that  obstructed  them — ^but  what  it  was 
they  did  not  know. 

All  this  was  rather  like  a  whirlpool;  aU  boundaries  disap- 
peared. Unfamiliar  powers  arose^  and  the  most  good-natured 
became  suspicious  or  were  frankly  bewildered.  People  who  had 
hitherto  crawled  like  dogs  in  order  to  win  their  food  were  now 
filled  with  self-will^  and  preferred  to  be  struck  down  rather  than 
bow  down  of  their  own  accord.  Prudent  folks  who  had  worked 
all  their  lives  in  one  place  could  no  longer  put  up  with  the  con- 
ditions, and  went  at  a  word.  Their  hard-won  endurance  was 
banished  from  their  minds,  and  those  who  had  quietly  borne 
the  whole  burden  on  their  shoulders  were  now  becoming  restive; 
they  were  as  unwilling  and  unruly  as  a  pregnant  woman. 
It  was  as  though  they  were  acting  under  the  inward  com- 
pulsion of  an  invisible  power,  and  were  striving  to  break 
open  the  hard  shell  which  lay  over  something  new  within 
them.  One  could  perceive  that  painful  striving  in  their  be- 
wildered gaze  and  in  their  sudden  crazy  grasp  at  the  empty 
air. 

There  was  something  menacing  in  the  very  uncertainty 
which  possessed  the  masses.  It  was  as  though  they  were  listen- 
ing for  a  word  to  sound  out  of  the  darkness.  Swiftly  they  re- 
solved to  banish  old  custom  and  convention  from  their  minds, 
in  order  to  make  room  there.  On  every  side  men  continually 
spoke  of  new  things,  and  sought  blindly  to  find  their  way  to 
them;  it  was  a  matter  of  course  that  the  time  had  come  and 
the  promised  land  was  about  to  be  opened  to  them.  They  went 
about  in  readiness  to  accomplish  something — ^what,  they  did  not 
know ;  they  formed  themselves  into  little  groups ;  they  conducted 
unfortunate  strikes,  quite  at  random.  Others  organized  debat- 
ing societies,  and  began  in  weighty  speech  to  squabble  about 
the  new  ideas — ^which  none  of  them  knew  anything  about. 
These  were  more  particularly  the  young  men.  Many  of  them 
had  come  to  the  city  in  search  of  fortune,  as  had  Pelle  him- 


JTHE   GEEAT   STBUQGLE  47 

self,  and  these  were  fall  of  burning  restlessness.  There  was 
something  violent  and  feverish  about  them. 

Such  was  the  situation  when  Pelle  entered  the  capitaL  It 
was  chaotic;  there  was  no  definite  plan  by  which  they  could 
reach  their  goal.  The  masses  no  longer  supported  one  another, 
but  were  in  a  state  of  solution,  bewildered  and  drifting  about 
in  the  search  for  something  that  would  weld  them  together.  In 
the  upper  ranks  of  society  people  noted  nothing  but  the  inse* 
curity  of  the  position  of  the  workers;  people  complained  of  their 
restlessness,  a  senseless  restlessness  which  jeopardized  revenue 
and  aggravated  foreign  competition.  A  few  thoughtful  individ- 
uals saw  the  people  as  one  great  listening  ear;  new  preachers 
were  arising  who  wanted  to  lead  the  crowd  by  new  ways  to 
Ood.  Pelle  now  and  again  allowed  the  stream  to  carry  him 
into  such  quarters,  but  he  did  allow  himself  to  be  caught; 
it  was  only  the  old  story  over  again;  there  was  nothing  in 
it.  Nobody  now  was  satisfied  with  directions  how  to  reach 
heaven — ^the  new  prophets  disappeared  as  quickly  as  they  had 
arisen. 

But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  confusion  there  was  one  per- 
manent center,  one  community,  which  had  steadily  increased 
during  the  years,  and  had  fanatically  endured  the  scorn  and 
the  persecution  of  those  above  and  below,  until  it  at  last  pos- 
sessed several  thousand  of  members.  It  stood  fast  in  the  mael- 
strom and  obstinately  a£5rmed  that  its  doctrines  were  those  of 
the  future.  And  now  the  wind  seemed  to  be  filling  its  sails ;  it 
replied  after  its  own  fashion  to  the  impatient  demands  for  a 
heaven  to  be  enfoyed  here  on  earth  and  an  attainable  hap- 
piness. 

Pelle  had  been  captured  by  the  new  doctrines  out  by  the 
Schleswig  Stone,  and  had  thrown  himself,  glowing  and  ener- 
getic, into  the  heart  of  the  movement.  He  attended  meetings 
and  discussions,  his  ears  on  the  alert  to  absorb  anything  really 
essential ;  for  his  practical  nature  called  for  something  palpable 
whereupon  his  mind  could  get  to  work.  Weep  within  his  being 
was  a  mighty  flux,  like  that  of  a  river  beneath  its  ice;  and  at 
times  traces  of  it  rose  to  the  surface,  and  alarmed  him.  Yet 
he  had  no  power  to  sound  the  retreat;  and  when  he  heard  the 
complaint,  in  respect  of  the  prevailing  unrest,  that  it  endan- 


48  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

gered  the  welfare  of  the  nation^  he  was  not  able  to  grasp  the 
connection. 

*Ti^8  preposterous  that  they  should  knock  off  work  without 
any  reason/'  he  once  told  Morten^  when  the  baker's  driver  had 
thrown  up  his  place.  ''Like  your  driver^  for  example — he  had 
no  ground  for  complaint.'' 

'Terhaps  he  suddenly  got  a  pain  between  the  legs  because 
his  ancestor  great-grandfather  was  once  made  to  ride  on  a 
wooden  horse — he  came  from  the  coxmtry/'  said  Morten  sol- 
emnly. 

Pelle  looked  at  him  quickly.  He  did  not  like  Morten's  am- 
biguous manner  of  expressing  himself.  It  made  him  feel  in- 
secure. 

''Can't  you  talk  reasonably?"  he  said.  "I  can't  imderstand 
you." 

"No  ?  And  yet  that's  quite  reason  enough — ^there  have  been 
lots  of  reasons  since  his  great-grandfather's  days.  What  the 
devil — ^why  should  they  want  a  reason  referring  to  yesterday 
precisely?  Don't  you  realize  that  the  worker,  who  has  so  long 
he&OL  working  the  treadmill  in  the  belief  that  the  movement 
was  caused  by  somebody  else,  has  suddenly  discovered  that  if  s 
he  that  keeps  the  whole  thing  in  motion?  For  thafs  what  is 
going  on.  The  poor  man  is  not  merely  a  slave  who  treads  the 
whed,  and  had  a  handful  of  meal  shoved  down  his  gullet  now 
and  again  to  keep  him  from  starving  to  death.  He  is  on  the 
point  of  discovering  tiiat  he  performs  a  higher  service,  look 
you!  And  now  the  movement  is  altering — ^it  is  continuing  of 
itself  I  But  that  you  probably  cant  see,"  he  added,  as  he  noted 
Belle's  incredulous  expression. 

"No,  for  I'm  not  one  of  the  big-bellies,"  said  Pelle,  laugh- 
ing, "and  you're  no  prophet,  to  prophesy  such  great  things. 
And  I  have  enough  understanding  to  realize  that  if  you  want  to 
make  a  row  you  must  absolutely  have  something  definite  to  make 
a* fuss  about,  otherwise  it  won't  work.  But  that  about  the 
wooden  horse  isn't  good  enough  I" 

"Thafs  just  the  point  about  lots  of  fusses,"  Morten  replied. 
"There's  no  need  to  give  a  pretext  for  anything  that  everybody's 
interested  in." 

Pelle  pondered  further  over  all  this  while  at  work.    But 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  49 

ihese  deliberations  did  not  proceed  as  in  general;  as  a  mle^ 
each  matters  as  were  eonsiderd  in  his  world  of  thought  were 
fixed  by  the  generations  and  referred  principally  to  life  and 
death.  He  had  to  set  to  work  in  a  practical  manner^  and  to 
retom  to  his  own  significant  experience. 

Old  Pipman  was  snperfiuons ;  that  Pelle  himself  had  proved. 
And  there  was  really  no  reason  why  he  should  not  shake  off 
the  Court  shoemaker  as  well;  the  journeymen  saw  to  the  meas- 
uring and  the  cutting-out;  indeed^  they  did  the  whole  work. 
He  was  also  really  a  parasite^  who  had  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  them  all^  and  was  sucking  up  their  profits.  But  then 
Morten  was  right  with  his  imabashed  assertion  that  the  work- 
ing-man carried  on  the  whole  business !  Pelle  hesitated  a  little 
over  this  conclusion;  he  cautiously  verified  the  fact  tiiat  it  wa9 
in  any  case  valid  in  his  craft.  There  was  some  sense  in  winning 
back  his  own — ^but  how  ? 

His  sound  common-sense  demanded  something  that  would 
take  the  place  of  Meyer  and  the  other  big  parasites.  It  wouldnH 
do  for  every  journeyman  to  sit  down  and  botch  away  on  his 
own  account^  like  a  little  employer;  he  had  seen  that  plainly 
enough  in  the  little  town  at  home;  it  was  mere  bungling. 

So  he  set  himself  to  work  out  a  plan  for  a  cooperative  busi- 
ness. A  number  of  craftsmen  should  band  together^  each  should 
contribute  his  littie  capital^  and  a  place  of  business  would  be 
selected.  The  work  would  be  distributed  according  to  the  vari- 
ous capacities  of  the  men,  and  they  would  choose  one  from 
their  midst  who  would  superintend  the  whole.  In  this  way  the 
problem  could  be  solved — every  man  would  receive  the  full 
profit  of  his  work. 

When  he  had  thoroughly  thought  out  his  plan,  he  went  to 
Morten. 

'^TheyVe  already  put  that  into  practice  V*  cried  Morten,  and 
he  pulled  out  a  book.  '3ut  it  didn^  work  particularly  welL 
Where  did  you  get  the  idea  from  ?** 

^?  thought  it  out  myself/'  answered  Pelle  self-consciously. 

Morten  looked  a  trifie  incredulous;  then  he  consulted  the 
book,  and  showed  Pelle  that  his  idea  was  described  there — al- 
most word  for  word — as  a  phase  of  the  progressive  movement. 
The  book  was  a  work  on  Socialism. 


50  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

But  Pelle  did  not  lose  heart  on  that  account!  He  was 
proud  to  have  hit  on  something  that  others  had  worked  out 
before  him — and  learned  people^  too  I  He  began  to  have  confi- 
dence in  his  own  ideas^  and  eagerly  attended  lectures  and  meet- 
ings. He  had  energy  and  courage^  that  he  knew.  He  would 
try  to  make  himself  efficient^  and  then  he  would  seek  out  those 
at  the  head  of  things,  who  were  preparing  the  way,  and  would 
offer  them  his  services. 

Hitherto  Fortune  had  always  hovered  before  his  eyes,  ob- 
scurely, like  a  fairy-tale,  as  something  that  suddenly  swooped 
down  upon  a  man  and  lifted  him  to  higher  r^ons,  while  all 
those  who  were  left  behind  gazed  longingly  after  him — ^that  was 
the  worst  of  it  1  But  now  he  perceived  new  paths,  which  for  all 
those  that  were  in  need  led  on  to  fortune,  just  as  the  ''Great 
Power''  had  fancied  in  the  hour  of  his  death.  He  did  not  quite 
understand  where  everything  was  to  come  from,  but  that  was 
just  the  thing  he  must  discover. 

All  this  kept  his  mind  in  a  state  of  new  and  imaccustomed 
activity.  He  was  not  used  to  thinking  things  out  for  himself, 
but  had  until  now  always  adhered  to  the  ideas  which  had  been 
handed  down  from  generation  to  generation  as  established — and 
he  often  found  it  difficult  and  wearisome.  Thai  he  would  try 
to  shelve  the  whole  subject,  in  order  to  escape  from  it;  but  it 
always  returned  to  him. 

When  he  was  tired,  Hanne  regained  her  influence  over  him, 
and  then  he  went  over  to  see  her  in  the  evenings.  He  knew 
very  well  that  this  would  lead  to  nothing  good.  To  picture  for 
himself  a  future  beside  Hanne  seemed  impossible;  for  her  only 
the  moment  existed.  Her  peculiar  nature  had  a  certain  power 
over  him — ^that  was  aU.  He  often  vowed  to  himself  that  he 
would  not  allow  her  to  make  a  fool  of  him — but  he  always  went 
over  to  see  her  again.  He  must  try  to  conquer  her — and  then 
take  the  consequences. 

One  day,  when  work  was  over,  he  strolled  across  to  see  her. 
There  was  no  one  on  the  gallery,  so  he  went  into  the  little 
kitchen. 

'Is  that  you,  Pelle  i^  Hanne's  voice  sounded  from  the  living- 
room.    "Come  in,  then !'' 

She  had  apparently  been  washing  her  body,  and  was  now 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  51 

fiitting  in  a  white  petticoat  and  chemise^  and  combing  her  beau- 
tifnl  hair.  There  was  something  of  the  princess  about  her;  she 
took  such  care  of  her  body^  and  knew  how  it  should  be  done. 
The  mirror  stood  before  her^  on  the  window-sill ;  from  the  little 
back  room  one  coxdd  see^  between  the  roofs  and  the  mottled 
party-wall^  the  p^son  and  the  bridge  and  the  canal  tiiat  ran 
beneath  it.  Out  beyond  the  Exchange  the  air  was  gray  and 
streaked  with  the  tackle  of  ships. 

Pelle  sat  down  heavily  by  the  stove>  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
and  gazed  on  the  floor.  He  was  greatly  moved.  If  only  the  old 
woman  would  come  I  'T  believe  ITl  go  out/*  he  thought,  "and 
behave  as  though  I  were  looking  out  for  her.*'  But  he  remained 
sitting  there.  Against  the  wall  was  the  double  bed  with  its  red- 
flowered  counterpane,  while  the  table  stood  by  the  opposite  wall, 
with  the  chairs  pushed  under  it.  "She  shouldn't  drive  me  too 
far,'*  he  thought,  "or  perhaps  ilTl  end  in  my  seizing  her,  and 
thra  shell  have  her  fingers  burnt  V 

"Why  don't  you  talk  to  me,  Pelle  ?''  said  Hanne. 

He  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  her  in  the  mirror.  She 
was  holding  the  end  of  her  plait  in  her  mouth,  and  looked  like 
a  kitten  biting  its  taiL 

"Oh,  what  should  I  talk  about?''  he  replied  morosely. 

"You  are  angry  with  me,  but  it  isn't  fair  of  you — ^really, 
it  isn't  fair  I  Is  it  my  fault  that  I'm  so  terrified  of  poverty? 
Oh,  how  it  does  frighten  me !  It  has  always  been  like  that  ever 
since  I  was  bom,  and  you  are  poor  too,  Pelle,  as  poor  as 
I  am!  What  would  become  of  us  both?  We  know  the  whole 
story!" 

"What  will  become  of  us  ?"  said  Pelle. 

"That  I  don't  know,  and  if  s  all  the  same  to  me— only  it 
must  be  something  I  don't  know  all  about.  Everything  is  so 
familiar  if  one  is  poor— one  knows  every  stitch  of  one's  clothes 
by  heart ;  one  can  watch  them  wearing  out  If  you'd  only  been 
a  saOor,  Pelle  1" 

"Have  you  seen  him  again  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

Hanne  laughingly  shook  her  head.  "No;  but  I  believe 
something  will  happen — something  splendid.  Out  there  lies  a 
great  ship — I  can  see  it  from  the  window.  If s  full  of  wonder- 
fta  things,  Pelle." 


62  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

"You  are  crazy!'*  said  Pelle  scornfully.  'Tliafs  a  bark — 
bound  for  the  coal  quay.    She  comes  from  England  with  coals/' 

'That  may  well  be/'  replied  Hanne  indifferently.  '*!  dont 
mind  that  There's  something  in  me  singings  There  lies  the 
ship^  and  it  has  brought  something  for  me  from  foreign  parts.' 
And  you  needn't  grudge  me  my  happiness." 

But  now  her  mother  came  in,  and  began  to  mimic  her. 

^es,  out  there  lies  the  ship  that  has  brought  me  something 
—out  there  lies  the  ship  that  has  brought  me  something !  Good 
God  I-  Haven't  you  had  enough  of  listening  to  your  own  crazy 
nonsense?  All  through  your  childhood  you've  sat  there  and 
made  up  stories  and  looked  out  for  the  ship!  We  shall  soon 
have  had  enough  of  it  I  And  you  let  Pelle  sit  there  and 
watch  you  uncovering  your  youth — aren't  you  ashamed  of  your- 
self?" 

'Telle's  so  good,  mother — and  he's  my  broHier^  too.  He 
thinks  nothing  of  it" 

'Thinks  nothing  of  it?  Yes,  he  does;  he  thinks  how  soft 
and  white  your  bosom  is!  And  he's  fit  to  cry  inside  of  him 
because  he  mustn't  lay  his  head  there.  I,  too,  have  known  what 
it  is  to  give  joy,  in  my  young  days." 

Hanne  blushed  from  her  bosom  upward.  She  threw  a  ker^ 
chief  over  her  bosom  and  ran  into  the  kitchen. 

The  mother  looked  after  her. 

''She's  got  a  skin  as  tender  as  that  of  a  king's  daughter. 
Woxddn't  one  think  she  was  a  cuckoo's  child?  Her  father 
couldn't  stand  her.  Tou've  betrayed  me  with  some  fine  gentle- 
man'— ^he  used  so  often  to  say  that.  'We  poor  folks  couldn't 
bring  a  piece  like  that  into  the  world !'  'As  Qod  lives,  Johnson,' 
I  used  to  say,  'you  and  no  other  are  the  girl's  father.'  But  he 
used  to  beat  us — ^he  wouldn't  believe  me.  He  used  to  fly  into  a 
rage  when  he  looked  at  the  child,  and  he  hated  us  both  because 
she  was  so  fine.  So  it's  no  wonder  that  she  had  gone  a  bit 
queer  in  the  head.  You  can  believe  she's  cost  me  tears  of 
blood,  Pelle.  But  you  let  her  be,  Pelle.  I  could  wish  you  could 
get  her,  but  it  wouldn't  be  best  for  you,  and  it  isn't  good  for 
you  to  have  her  playing  with  you.  And  if  you  got  her,  after 
all,  it  would  be  even  wors^.  A  woman's  whims  are  poor  capital 
for  setting  up  house  with." 


THE   QEEAT   STRUGGLE  53 

Pelle  agreed  with  her  in  cold  blood;  he  had  allowed  himself 
to  be  fooled^  and  was  wasting  his  youth  upon  a  path  that  led 
nowhere.    But  now  there  should  be  an  end  of  it. 

Hanne  came  back  and  looked  at  him^  radiant,  full  of  visions. 
*TV^ill  you  take  me  for  a  walk,  Pelle?*'  she  asked  him. 

^esl*'  answered  Pelle  joyfully,  and  he  threw  all  his  good 
resolutions  OTerboard. 


Pellb  and  his  little  neighbor  need  to  compete  as  to  which 
of  them  shonid  be  up  first  in  the  morning.  When  she  was 
Incky  and  had  to  wake  him  her  face  was  radiant  with  pride. 
It  sometimes  happened  that  he  would  lie  in  bed  a  little  longer, 
so  that  he  should  not  deprive  her  of  a  pleasure^  and  when  she 
knocked  on  the  wall  he  would  answer  in  a  yoice  quite  stupid 
with  drowsiness.  But  sometimes  her  childish  years  demanded 
the  sleep  that  was  their  right,  when  Pelle  would  move  about  as 
quietly  as  possible,  and  then,  at  half-past  six,  it  would  be  his 
turn  to  knock  on  the  wall.  On  these  occasions  she  would  feel 
ashamed  of  herself  all  the  morning.  Her  brothers  were  sup- 
posed to  get  their  early  coffee  and  go  to  work  by  six  o'clodc. 
Peter,  who  was  the  elder,  worked  in  a  tin-plate  works,  while 
Earl  sold  the  morning  papers,  and  undertook  every  possible 
kind  of  occasional  work  as  well;  this  he  had  to  himt  for,  and 
you  could  read  as  much  in  his  whole  little  person.  There  was 
something  restless  and  nomadic  about  him,  as  though  his 
thoughts  were  always  seeking  some  outlet. 

It  was  quite  a  lively  neighborhood  at  this  time  of  day; 
across  the  floor  of  the  well,  and  out  through  the  tunnel-like 
entry  there  was  an  endless  clattering  of  footsteps,  as  the  hun- 
dreds of  the  ^'Ark*'  tumbled  out  into  the  daylight,  half  tipsy 
with  sleep,  dishevelled,  with  evidence  of  has^  rising  in  their 
eyes  and  their  garments,  smacking  their  lips  as  though  they 
relished  the  contrast  between  the  night  and  day,  audibly  yawn- 
ing as  they  scuttled  away.  Up  in  Pellets  long  gangway  factory 
girls,  artisans,  and  newspaper  women  came  tumbling  out,  half 
nakecl;  they  were  always  late,  and  stood  there  scolding  until 
their  turn  came  to  wash  themselves.  There  was  only  one  lava- 
tory at  either  end  of  the  gangway,  and  there  was  only  just  time 

64 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  55 

to  sluice  their  eyes  and  wake  themselves  up.  The  doors  of  all 
fhe  rooms  stood  open ;  the  odors  of  night  were  heavy  on  the  air: 

On  the  days  when  Pelle  worked  at  home  little  Marie  was  in 
high  spirits.  She  sang  and  hummed  continually^  with  her 
curiously  small  voice,  and  every  few  minutes  she  would  run  in 
and  offer  Pelle  her  services.  At  such  times  she  would  station 
herself  behind  him  and  stand  there  in  silence,  watching  the 
progress  of  his  work,  while  her  breathing  was  audibly  percep- 
tible, as  a  faint,  whistling  sound.  There  was  a  curious,  still, 
brooding  look  about  her  little  imder-grown  figure  that  reminded 
Pelle  of  Morten's  unhappy  sister;  something  hard  and  undevel- 
oped, as  in  the  fruit  of  a  too-yoimg  tree.  But  the  same  shadow 
did  not  lie  upon  her;  childish  toil  had  not  steeped  her  as  with 
a  bitter  sap ;  only  her  outer  shell  was  branded  by  it.  There  was 
about  her,  on  the  contrary,  a  gleam  of  careful  happiness,  as 
though  things  had  turned  out  much  better  than  she  had  ex- 
pected. Perhaps  this  was  because  she  could  see  the  result  of 
her  hard  childish  labors;  no  one  could  scatter  that  to  the  winds. 

She  was  a  capable  little  housewife,  and  her  brothers  re- 
spected her,  and  faithfully  brought  home  what  they  earned. 
Then  she  took  what  she  needed,  laid  something  by  toward  the 
r^it,  in  a  box  which  was  put  away  in  the  chest  of  drawers,  and 
gave  them  something  wherewith  to  amuse  themselves.  "They 
must  have  something!''  she  told  people;  ''besides,  men  always 
need  money  in  their  pockets.  But  they  deserve  it,  for  they  have 
never  yet  spent  a  farthing  in  drink.  On  Saturday  nights  they 
always  come  straight  home  with  their  earnings.  But  now  I 
must  get  on  with  my  work;  ifs  dreadfxd  how  the  time  runs 
through  one's  hands." 

She  talked  just  like  a  young  married  woman,  and  Pelle  in- 
wardly chuckled  over  her. 

After  a  while  she  would  peep  in  again ;  it  was  time  for  Pelle 
to  have  a  bite  of  something ;  or  else  she  would  bring  her  mend* 
ing  with  her  and  sit  down  on  the  edge  of  a  chair. 

She  was  always  in  a  fidget  lest  a  saucepan  should  boil  over, 
or  something  else  go  amiss. 

At  such  times  they  had  long,  sensible  talks.  Little  Marie 
did  not  care  about  gossip;  but  there  were  plenty  of  serious 
things  which  had  to  be  talked  over;  the  difficult  times,  Marie's 


■N 


56  PELLB   THE   CONQUEEOE 

parents^  and  then  the  wonderful  fact  that  they  had  met  one 
another  once  before^  a  long  time  ago;  that  was  an  event  which 
provided  her  with  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  discussion^  although 
she  herself  could  not  remember  the  occasion. 

But  Pelle  remembered  it  all  quite  well,  and  over  and  over 
again  he  had  to  tell  her  how  one  day  at  home  he  had  gone  down 
to  the  harbor,  in  order  to  show  old  Thatcher  Holm  the  steam- 
ers; and  she  always  laughed  when  she  heard  how  Holm  had  run 
away  in  his  alarm  every  time  the  steam-crane  blew  off  steam. 
And  then?  Yes,  the  steamer  was  just  on  the  point  of  taking 
on  board  a  heap  of  furniture,  old  beds,  tables,  and  the  like. 

'That  was  all  ours  I''  cried  Marie,  clapping  her  hands.  **We 
still  had  a  few  things  then.  We  took  tiiem  to  the  pawn-shop 
when  father  lay  iU  after  his  fall.''  And  then  she  would  meet 
his  gaze,  asking  for  more. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  the  furniture  stood  a  man  with  a 
fine  old  mirror  in  his  arms.  Thatcher  Holm  knew  him,  and  had 
a  talk  with  him. 

^e  was  crying,  wasn't  he?"  asked  Marie  compassionately. 
Tather  was  so  imhappy,  because  things  were  going  so  badly 
with  us." 

And  then  she  herself  would  talk  about  the  hotel,  down  among 
the  cliffs  of  the  east  coast,  and  of  the  fine  guests  who  came 
there  in  summer.  Three  years  they  had  kept  the  hotel,  and 
Pelle  had  to  name  the  sum  out  of  which  her  father  had  been 
cheated.  She  was  proud  that  they  had  once  possessed  so  much. 
Ten  thousand  kroner! 

Over  here  her  father  had  found  work  as  a  stonemason's  la^ 
borer,  but  one  day  he  trod  on  a  loose  beam  and  feU.  For  a  few 
months  he  lay  sick,  and  all  their  household  goods  f  oimd  their 
way  to  the  pawn-shop ;  then  he  died,  and  then  they  came  to  the 
''Ark."  Their  mother  did  washing  out  of  doors,  but  at  last  she 
became  queer  in  the  head.  She  could  not  bear  unhappiness, 
and  neglected  her  housework,  to  run  about  seeking  consolation 
from  all  sorts  of  religious  sects.  At  last  she  was  quite  demented, 
and  one  day  she  disappeared.  It  was  believed  that  she  had 
drowned  herself  in  the  canal.  ''But  things  are  going  well  with 
us  now,"  Marie  always  concluded ;  '^ow  there's  nothing  to  worry 
about" 


THE   GBBAT   STBUQQLE  57 

^Qt  dont  you  get  tired  of  having  all  this  to  look  after?' 
Pelle  would  ask^  wondering. 

She  would  look  at  him  in  aatonishment.  ^'Why  should  I  be 
tired?  There's  not  more  than  one  can  manage— if  one  only 
knows  how  to  manage.  And  the  children  never  make  things 
difScult  for  me;  they  are  pleased  with  everything  I  do." 

The  three  orphans  struggled  on  as  well  as  they  could,  and 
were  quite  proud  of  their  little  household.  When  things  went 
badly  with  them^  they  went  hungry,  and  took  serious  counsel 
together;  but  they  accepted  help  from  no  one.  They  lived  in 
the  continual  fear  that  the  police  would  get  to  know  of  their 
position,  and  haul  them  off  to  school  Then  they  would  be 
forcibly  sqiarated  and  brought  up  at  the  expense  of  the  poor- 
rates.  They  were  shy,  and  *1cept  themselves  to  themselves.** 
In  the  ^Ark**  everybody  liked  them,  and  helped  them  to  keep 
their  secret  The  other  inmates  managed  their  family  affairs 
as  best  they  could;  there  was  always  a  scandal  somewhere.  It 
was  a  sort  of  satisfaction  to  have  these  three  children  living  so 
decently  in  the  midst  of  all  this  hotch-potch.  People  thought  a 
great  deal  of  their  little  model  household,  and  protected  it  as 
though  it  had  been  a  sanctuary. 

To  Pelle  they  attached  themselves  blindly.  They  had  picked 
him  up  out  of  the  streets,  and  they  certainly  regarded  him  to 
some  extent  as  a  foundling  who  was  still  under  their  protection. 
When  Marie  had  given  the  boys  their  morning  coffee,  she  car^ 
ried  some  in  to  Pelle — ^it  was  no  use  protesting.  And  in  the 
mornings,  when  she  was  busy  indoors  by  herself,  she  would  go 
round  to  him  with  broom  and  bucket.  Her  precocious,  intelU* 
gent  face  was  beaming  with  circumspection  and  the  desire  to 
help.  She  did  not  ask  permission,  but  set  to  work  where  need 
was.  If  Pelle  was  away  at  Beck's  workshop,  he  always  found 
his  room  dean  and  tidy  in  the  evening. 

If  he  had  work  at  home,  she  would  bring  coffee  for  the  two 
of  them  during  the  morning.  He  did  not  dare  to  drive  her 
away,  for  she  would  take  that  to  heart,  and  would  go  about 
offended  all  the  rest  of  the  day;  so  he  would  run  below  to  fetch 
a  roll  of  white  bread.  Marie  always  found  some  pretext  for 
putting  aside  her  share  for  the  boys;  it  gave  her  no  real  pleasure 
to  enjoy  anything  by  herself. 


68  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

Pelle  felt  that  he  was  making  headway;  and  he  was  con- 
scious of  his  own  youth.  He  was  continually  in  the  rosiest  of 
humors^  and  even  Hanne  could  not  throw  any  real  shadow  over 
his  existence.  In  his  relations  with  her  there  was  something  of 
a  beautiful  unreality;  they  left  no  permanent  scar  upon  his 
heart. 

He  felt  quite  simply  ashamed  in  the  presence  of  this  much- 
tried  childy  whenever  something  cropped  up  to  put  him  out  of 
temper.  He  felt  it  was  his  duty  to  brighten  her  poverty-stricken 
life  with  his  high  spirits.  He  chatted  merrily  to  her^  chafFed 
her,  teased  her^  to  charm  her  from  her  unnatural  solemnity. 
And  she  would  smile^  in  her  quiet^  motherly  fashion^  as  one 
smiles  at  a  much-loved  child  who  seeks  to  drive  away  our  cares 
— and  would  then  oflfer  to  do  something  for  him. 

"Shall  I  wash  out  your  blouse  or  do  up  your  shirt?*'  she 
would  ask.  Her  gratitude  always  found  its  expression  in  some 
kind  of  work. 

'^Oy  thanks,  Marie;  Hanne  and  her  mother  look  after 
that.*' 

•'^ut  thafs  not  work  for  the  Princess — ^I  can  do  it  much 
better.'' 

"The  Princess?"  said  Pelle,  raising  his  head.  "Is  that 
what  they  call  her?" 

"Only  us  children — ^we  don't  mean  it  unkindly.  But  we 
always  played  at  there  being  a  princess  when  she  was  with  us — 
and  she  was  always  the  princess.  But  do  you  know  what? 
Some  one  will  come  and  take  her  away — some  one  very  distin- 
guished. She  has  been  promised  from  the  cradle  to  a  fine  gen- 
tleman." 

'^hat  nonsense!"  said  Pelle  crossly, 
'^ut  that's  really  true!  When  it  rained  we  used  to  sit 
under  the  gallery — ^in  the  comer  by  the  dustbin — ^and  she  used 
to  tell  us — and  if  s  really  true  I  And,  besides,  don't  you  think 
she's  fascinating  ?  She's  really  just  like  a  princess — ^like  that !" 
Marie  made  a  gesture  in  the  air  with  her  finger?  outspread. 
"And  she  knows  everything  that  is  going  to  happen.  She  used 
to  run  down  to  us,  in  the  courtyard,  in  her  long  dress,  and 
her  mother  used  to  stand  .up  above  and  call  her ;  then  she'd  sit 
on  the  grating  as  if  it  was  a  throne  and  she  w^e  the  queen  and 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  69 

we  were  her  ladies.  She  used  to  braid  our  hair,  and  then  dress 
it  beautifully  with  colored  ribbons,  and  when  I  came  up  here 
again  mother  used  to  tear  it  all  down  and  make  my  hair  rough 
again.  It  was  a  sin  against  God  to  deck  one's  self  out  like  that, 
she  said.  And  when  mother  disappeared  I  hadn't  time  to  play 
down  there  any  more.'' 

*Toor  little  girl  I"  said  Pelle,  stroking  her  hair. 

''Why  do  you  say  that?"  she  asked  him,  looking  at  him  in 
astonishment. 

He  enjoyed  her  absolute  confidence,  and  was  told  things  that 
the  boys  were  not  allowed  to  know.  She  began  to  dress  more 
carefully,  and  her  fine  fair  hair  was  always  brushed  smoothly 
back  from  her  forehead.  She  was  delighted  when  they  both 
had  some  errand  in  the  city.  Then  she  put  on  her  best  and 
went  through  the  streets  at  his  side,  her  whole  face  smiling. 
**Now  perhaps  people  will  think  we  are  a  couple  of  lovers — ^but 
what  does  it  matter  ?  Let  them  think  it  I"  Pelle  laughed ;  with 
her  thirteen  years  she  was  no  bigger  than  a  child  of  nine,  so 
backward  in  growth  was  she. 

She  often  foimd  it  difficult  to  make  both  ends  meet;  she 
would  say  little  or  nothing  about  it,  but  a  kind  of  fear  would 
betray  itself  in  her  expression.  Then  Pelle  would  speak  cheer- 
fully of  the  good  times  that  would  soon  be  coming  for  all  poor 
people.  It  cost  him  a  great  deal  of  exertion  to  put  this  in 
words  so  as  to  make  it  sound  as  it  ought  to  sound.  His  thoughts 
were  stiU  so  new — even  to  himself.  But  the  children  thought 
nothing  of  his  unwieldy  speech;  to  them  it  was  easier  to  believe 
in  the  new  age  than  it  was  to  him. 


VI 

Pellb  was  going  through  a  peculiar  change  at  this  time. 
He  had  seen  enough  need  and  poverty  in  his  life ;  and  the  cap- 
ital was  simply  a  battlefield  on  which  army  upon  army  had 
rushed  forward  and  had  miserably  been  defeated.  Bound  about 
him  lay  the  fallen.  The  town  was  built  over  them  as  over  a 
cemetery;  one  had  to  tread  upon  them  in  order  to  win  for- 
ward— and  harden  one's  heart.  Such  was  life  in  these  days; 
one  shut  one's  eyes — ^like  the  sheep  when  they  see  their  com- 
rades about  to  be  slaughtered — and  waited  untU  one's  own  turn 
came.    There  was  nothing  else  to  do. 

But  now  he  was  awake  and  suffering;  it  hurt  him  with  a 
stabbing  pain  whenever  he  saw  others  suffer;  and  he  railed 
against  misf  ortune,  unreasonable  though  it  might  be. 

There  came  a  day  when  he  sat  working  at  home.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  gangway  a  factory  girl  with  her  child  had 
moved  in  a  short  while  before.  Every  morning  she  locked  the 
door  and  went  to  work — and  she  did  not  return  until  the  even- 
ing. When  Pelle  came  home  he  could  hear  the  sound  of  cry- 
ing within  the  room. 

He  sat  at  his  work,  wrestling  with  his  confused  ideas.  And 
all  the  time  a  curious  stifled  sound  was  in  his  ears — a  grievous 
sound,  as  though  something  were  incessantly  complaining.  Per- 
haps it  was  only  the  dirge  of  poverty  itself,  some  strophe  of 
which  was  always  vibrating  upon  the  air. 

Little  Marie  came  hurrying  in.  ^Oh,  Pelle,  if  s  crying 
again !"  she  said,  and  she  wrung  her  hands  anxiously  upon  her 
hollow  chest.  ^Ht  has  cried  all  day,  ever  since  she  came  here — 
it  is  horrible  1" 

*^e11  go  and  see  whaf  s  wrong,"  said  telle,  and  he  threw 
down  his  hammer. 

60 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  61 

The  door  was  locked ;  they  tried  to  look  through  the  keyhole, 
but  could  see  nothing.  The  child  within  stopped  its  crying  for 
a  moment,  as  though  it  heard  them,  but  it  b^an  again  at  once; 
the  sound  was  low  and  monotonous,  as  though  the  child  was 
prepared  to  hold  out  indefinitely.  They  looked  at  one  another; 
it  was  unendurable. 

^The  keys  on  this  gangway  do  for  all  the  doors,''  said  Marie, 
under  her  breath.  With  one  leap  Pelle  had  rushed  indoors,  ob- 
tained his  key,  and  opened  the  door. 

Close  by  tiie  door  sat  a  little  four-year-old  boy;  he  stared  up 
at  them,  holding  a  rusty  tin  yessel  in  his  hand.  He  was  tied 
fast  to  the  stove;  near  him,  on  an  old  wooden  stool,  was  a  tin 
plate  containing  a  few  half-nibbled  crusts  of  bread.  The  child 
was  dressed  in  filthy  rags  and  presented  a  shocking  appearance. 
He  sat  in  his  own  filth;  his  little  hands  were  covered  with  it. 
His  tearful,  swollen  face  was  smeared  all  over  with  it.  He  held 
up  his  hands  to  them  beseechingly. 

Pelle  burst  into  tears  at  the  horrible  mght  and  wanted  to 
pick  the  child  up.  '^t  me  do  thatP  cried  Marie,  horrified. 
^ouTl  make  yourself  filthy  V 

''What  then  ?''  said  Pelle  stupidly.  He  helped  to  untie  the 
child;  his  hands  were  trembling. 

To  some  extent  they  got  the  child  to  rights  and  gave  him 
food.  Then  tiiey  let  him  loose  in  the  long  gangway.  For  a 
time  he  stood  stupidly  gaping  by  the  doorpost;  then  he  discov- 
ered that  he  was  not  tied  up,  and  began  to  rush  up  and  down. 
He  still  held  in  his  hand  the  old  tea-strainer  which  he  had  been 
grasping  when  they  rescued  him;  he  had  held  on  to  it  convul- 
sively all  the  time.  Marie  had  to  dip  his  hand  in  the  water  in 
order  to  clean  the  strainer. 

From  time  to  time  he  stood  in  front  of  Pelle's  open  door, 
and  peeped  inside.  Pelle  nodded  to  him,  when  he  went  storm- 
ing up  and  down  again — ^he  was  like  a  wild  thing.  But  sud- 
denly he  came  right  in,  laid  the  tearstrainer  in  Pelle's  lap  and 
looked  at  him.  ''Am  I  to  have  that!^  asked  PcUe.  ^liook, 
Marie,  he  is  giving  me  the  only  tiling  he's  got  I" 

"Oh,  poor  little  thing!"  cried  Marie  pityingly.  "He  wants 
to  thank  you !" 

In  the  evening  the  factory  girl  came  rushing  in;  she  was  in 


62  PELLE  THE   CONQUEEOB 

a  rage^  and  began  to  abuse  them  for  breaking  into  her  room. 
Pelle  wondered  at  himself,  that  he  was  able  to  answer  her  so 
qnietly  instead  of  railing  back  at  her.  But  he  understood  very 
weU  tiiat  she  was  ashamed  of  her  poverty  and  did  not  want  any 
one  else  to  see  it.  *T[t  is  unkind  to  the  child/'  was  all  he  said. 
•'And  yet  you  are  fond  of  it  !'* 

Then  she  b^an  to  cry.  'T  have  to  tie  him  up,  or  he  climbs 
out  over  the  window-sill  and  runs  into  the  street — ^he  got  to  the 
comer  once  before.  And  Vve  no  clothes,  to  take  him  to  the 
creche  !*' 

*Then  leave  the  door  open  on  the  gangway  1  We  will  look 
after  him,  Marie  and  I.^ 

After  this  the  child  tumbled  about  the  gangway  and  ran  to 
and  fro.  Marie  looked  after  him,  and  was  like  a  mother  to  him. 
Pelle  bought  some  old  clothes,  and  they  altered  them  to  fit  him. 
The  child  looked  very  droll  in  them ;  he  was  a  little  goblin  who 
took  everything  in  good  part.  In  his  loneliness  he  had  not 
learned  to  speak,  but  now  speech  came  quickly  to  him. 

In  Pelle  this  incident  awakened  sometiiing  quite  noveL 
Poverty  he  had  known  before,  but  now  he  saw  the  injustice 
that  lay  beneath  it,  and  cried  to  heaven.  His  hands  would 
suddenly  clench  with  anger  as  he  sat  so  quietly  in  his  room. 
Here  was  something  one  must  hasten  forward,  without  inter- 
mission, day  and  night,  as  long  as  one  drew  breath — ^Morten  was 
right  about  that !  This  child's  father  was  a  factory  hand,  and 
the  girl  dared  not  summon  him  before  the  magistrates  in  order 
to  make  him  pay  for  its  support  for  fear  of  being  dismissed 
from  her  place.  The  whole  business  seemed  so  hopeless — so- 
ciety seemed  so  unassailable — ^yet  he  felt  that  he  must  strike  a 
blow.  His  own  hands  alone  signified  so  little ;  but  if  they  could 
only  strike  the  blow  all  together — ^then  perhaps  it  would  have 
some  effect. 

In  the  evenings  he  and  Morten  went  to  meetings  where  the 
situation  was  passionately  discussed.  Those  who  attended  these 
meetings  were  mostly  young  people  like  himself.  They  met  in 
some  inn  by  the  North  Bridge.  But  Pelle  longed  to  see  some 
result,  and  applied  himself  eagerly  to  the  organization  of  his 
own  craft. 

He  inspired  the  weary  president  with  his  own  zeal,  and 


THE   GBEAT  STKUQGLB  63 

tiiey  prepared  together  a  list  of  aU  the  members  of  their  trade — 
as  the  basis  of  a  more  vigorous  agitation.  When  the  ^'com- 
rades^'  were  invited  to  a  meeting  through  the  press,  they  turned 
lazy  and  failed  to  appear.  More  effectual  means  were  needed; 
and  Pelle  started  a  house-to-house  agitation.  This  helped  imme- 
diately; they  were  in  a  dilemma  when  one  got  them  face  to 
face,  and  the  Union  was  considerably  increased,  in  spite  of  the 
persecution  of  the  big  masters. 

Morten  began  to  treat  him  with  respect;  and  wanted  him  to 
read  about  the  movement.  But  Pelle  had  no  time  for  thai 
Together  with  Peter  and  Karl,  who  were  extremely  zealous, 
he  took  in  The  Working  Man,  and  that  was  enough  for 
him.  *T[  know  more  about  poverty  than  they  write  there,'* 
he  said. 

There  was  no  lack  of  fuel  to  keep  this  fire  burning.  He 
had  participated  in  the  march  of  poverty,  from  the  country  to 
the  town  and  thence  to  the  capital,  and  there  they  stood  and 
could  go  no  farther  for  all  their  longing,  but  perished  on  a 
desert  shore.  The  many  lives  of  the  *'Ark'*  lay  always  before 
his  eyes  as  a  great  common  possession,  where  no  one  need  con- 
ceal himself,  and  where  the  need  of  the  one  was  another's  grief. 

His  nature  was  at  this  time  undergoing  a  great  change. 
There  was  an  end  of  his  old  careless  acceptance  of  things.  He 
laughed  less  and  performed  apparently  trivial  actions  with  an 
earnestness  which  had  its  comical  side.  And  he  began  to  dis- 
play an  appearance  of  self-respect  which  seemed  Hi-justified  by 
his  position  and  his  poverty. 

One  evening,  when  work  was  over,  as  he  came  homeward 
from  Beck's  workshop,  he  heard  the  diildren  singing  Hanne's 
song  down  in  the  courtyard.  He  stood  still  in  the  tuimel-like 
entry;  Hanne  herself  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  circle,  and  the 
children  were  dancing  round  her  and  singing: 

"I  looked  from  the  lofty  mountain 
Down  over  vale  and  lea, 
And  I  saw  a  ship  come  sailing, 

Sailing,  sailing, 
I  saw  a  sbip  come  sailing, 
And  on  it  were  lordlings  three." 

On  Hanne's  countenance  lay  a  blind,  fixed  smile;  her  eyes 


64  PELLE  THE   CONQXTEBOB 

were  tightly  closed.    She  tamed  slowly  about  as  the  childien 
ung,  and  die  sang  softly  with  them: 

"The  youngest  of  all  the  lordlings 
Who  on  the  ship  did  stand  .  .  .** 

But  suddenly  she  saw  Pelle  and  broke  out  of  the  circle.  She 
went  up  the  stairs  with  him.  The  children,  disappointed,  stood 
calling  after  her. 

^'Arent  you  coming  to  us  this  evening?^  she  asked,  ^t  is 
so  long  since  we  have  seen  yoxL^ 

^Ve  no  time.  Pve  got  an  appointmenV'  replied  Pelle 
briefly. 

^ut  you  must  come !  I  beg  you  to,  Pelle.''  She  looked  at 
him  pleadingly,  her  eyes  burning. 

Pelle's  heart  began  to  thump  as  he  met  her  gaze.  ^'What  do 
you  want  with  me?''  he  asked  diarply. 

Hanne  stood  still,  gazing  irresolutely  into  the  distance. 

'Ton  must  help  me,  Pelle,"  she  said,  in  a  toneless  voice, 
without  meeting  his  eye. 

'Yesterday  I  met  .  .  .  Yesterday  evening,  as  I  was  coming 
out  of  the  factory  ...  he  stood  down  below  here  ...  he 
knows  where  I  live.  I  went  across  to  the  other  side  and  behaved 
as  though  I  did  not  see  him;  but  he  came  up  to  me  and  said  I 
was  to  go  to  the  New  Market  this  evening!" 

**And  what  did  you  say  to  that?"  answered  Pelle  sulkily. 

**I  didnt  say  anything — ^I  ran  as  hard  as  I  could!" 

*ls  that  all  you  want  me  for?"  cried  Pelle  harshly.  **Tou 
can  keep  away  from  him,  if  you  don't  want  him !" 

A  cold  shudder  ran  through  her.  ^ut  if  he  comes  here  to 
look  for  me?  .  .  .  And  you  are  so  .  .  .1  dont  care  for  any- 
body in  the  world  but  you  and  mother!"  She  spoke  passion- 
atdy. 

^^ell,  well.  111  come  over  to  you,"  answered  Pelle  cheer- 
fuHy. 

He  dressed  himself  quickly  and  went  across.  The  old 
woman  was  delighted  to  see  him.  Hanne  was  quite  frolicsome ; 
she  rallied  him  continually,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  had 
abandoned  his  firm  attitude  and  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn 
into  the  most  delightful  romancing.    They  sat  out  on  the  gal- 


THE   QEEAT   STEUQQLE  66 

lery  under  the  green  f oliage,  Hanne's  face  glowing  to  rival  the 
climbing  pelargonium;  she  kept  on  swinging  her  foot^  and  con- 
tinnaUy  touched  Pellets  leg  with  the  tip  of  her  shoe. 

She  was  nervously  full  of  lif e^  and  kept  on  asking  the  time. 
When  her  mother  went  into  the  kitchen  to  make  coffee^  she 
took  Pelle's  hand  and  smilingly  stroked  it. 

^Come  with  me/'  she  said.  ^  should  so  like  to  see  if  he  is 
really  so  silly  as  to  think  VA  come.  We  can  stand  in  a  comer 
fiomewhere  and  look  out.'' 

Pelle  did  not  answer. 

^Mother/'  said  Hanne^  when  Madam  Johnsen  returned  with 
the  coffee,  **I'm  going  out  to  buy  some  stuff  for  my  bodice. 
PeUe's  coming  with  me." 

The  excuse  was  easy  to  see  through.  But  the  old  woman 
betrayed  no  emotion.  She  had  already  seen  that  Hanne  was 
well  disposed  toward  Pelle  to-day;  something  was  going  on  in 
the  girl's  mind,  and  if  Pelle  only  wanted  to,  he  could  now  bridle 
her  properly.  She  had  no  objection  to  make  if  both  the  young 
people  kicked  over  the  traces  a  little.  Perhaps  then  they  would 
find  peace  together. 

'?ou  ought  to  take  your  shawl  with  you,"  she  told  Hanne. 
'Tlie  evening  air  may  turn  cold." 

Hanne  walked  so  quickly  that  Pelle  could  hardly  follow  her., 
^fll  be  a  lark  to  see  his  disappointment  when  we  don't  turn 
up,"  she  said,  laughing.  Pelle  laughed  also.  She  stationed 
herself  behind  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  Town  Hall,  where  she 
could  peep  out  across  the  market  She  was  quite  out  of  breath, 
she  had  hurried  so. 

Gradually,  as  the  time  went  by  and  the  stranger  did  not  ap- 
pear, her  animation  vanished;  she  was  silent,  and  her  expression 
was  one  of  disappointment. 

'^o  one's  going  to  come!"  she  said  suddenly,  and  she 
laughed  shortly. 

^  only  made  up  the  whole  thing  to  tell  you,  to  we  ^wktit 
you'd  say." 

<*Then  lef  s  go !"  said  Pelle  quietly,  and  he  took  her  hand. 

As  they  went  down  the  steps,  ELanne  started ;  and  her  hand 
fell  limply  from  his.  The  stranger  came  quickly  up  to  her.  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  Hanne,  q;i:detly  and  as  a  matter  of  course. 


66  PELLE   THE   CONQUBEOE 

as  though  he  had  known  Eer  for  years.  Pelle^  apparently^  he 
did  not  see. 

*TVill  ^ou  come  somewhere  with  me — ^where  we  can  hear 
mnsic^  for  example?''  he  asked^  and  he  continued  to  hold  her 
hand.    She  looked  irresolutely  at  Pelle. 

For  a  moment  Pelle  felt  an  inordinate  longing  to  throw  him- 
self upon  this  man  and  strike  him  to  the  groimd,  but  then  he 
met  Hanne's  eyes,  which  wore  an  expression  as  though  she  was 
longing  for  some  means  of  shaking  him  off.  '^ell,  it  looks  as 
if  one  was  in  the  way  here  I''  he  thought.  '^And  what  does  it  all 
matter  to  meP'  He  turned  away  from  her  and  sauntered  off 
down  a  side  street. 

Pelle  strolled  along  to  the  quays  by  the  gasworks,  and  he 
stood  there,  sunk  in  thought,  gazing  at  the  ships  and  the  oily 
water.  He  did  not  suffer;  it  was  only  so  terribly  stupid  that  a 
strange  hand  should  appear  out  of  the  unknown,  and  that  the 
bird  which  he  with  all  Ms  striving  could  not  entice,  should  have 
hopped  right  away  on  to  that  hand. 

Below  the  quay-wall  the  water  plashed  with  a  drowsy  sound; 
fragments  of  wood  and  other  rubbish  floated  on  it;  it  was  all 
so  home-like!  Out  by  the  coal-quay  lay  a  three-master.  It 
was  after  working  hours;  the  crew  were  making  an  uproar  below 
decks,  or  standing  about  on  deck  and  washing  themselves  in  a 
bucket.  One  well-grown  young  seaman  in  blue  clothes  and  a 
white  neckerchief  came  out  of  the  cabin  and  stared  up  at  the 
rigging  as  though  out  of  habit,  and  yawned.  Then  he  strolled 
ashore.  EUs  cap  was  on  the  back  of  his  head,  and  between  his 
teeth  was  a  new  pipe.  His  face  was  full  of  freakish  merriment, 
and  he  walked  with  a  swing  of  the  hips.  As  he  came  up  to 
Pelle  he  swayed  to  and  fro  a  few  times  and  then  bumped  into 
him.  ^'Oh,  excuse  me !''  he  said,  touching  his  cap.  ^1  thought 
it  was  a  scratching-post,  the  gentleman  stood  so  stiff.  Well, 
you  mustn't  take  it  amiss!"  And  he  began  to  go  round  and 
round  Pello,  bending  far  forward  as  though  he  were  looking  for 
something  on  him,  and  finally  he  pawed  his  own  ears,  like  a 
friendly  bear,  and  shook  with  laughter.  He  was  overflowing 
with  high  spirits  and  good  humor. 

Pelle  had  not  shaken  off  his  feeling  of  resentment;  he  did 
not  know  whether  to  be  angry  or  to  laugh  at  the  whole  thing. 


THE   GBEAT   STEUGQLB  67 

He  turned  about  cautiously^  so  as  to  keep  his  eye  on  the  sailor^ 
lest  the  latter  should  pull  his  feet  from  under  •him.  He  knew 
the  grip^  and  also  how  it  should  be  parried;  and  he  held  his 
hands  in  readiness.  Suddenly  something  in  the  stooping  posi- 
tion struck  him  as  familiar.  This  was  Per  Kofod — ^Howling 
Peter,  from  the  village  school  at  home,  in  his  own  person !  He 
who  used  to  roar  and  blubber  at  the  slightest  word !  Yes,  this 
was  he! 

**(Jood  evening,  Per !"  he  cried,  delighted,  and  he  gave  him  a 
thump  in  the  back. 

The  seaman  stood  up,  astonished.  ''What  the  devil !  Good 
evening!  Well,  that  I  should  meet  you  here,  Pelle;  that's  the 
most  comical  thing  I've  ever  known!  You  must  excuse  my 
puppy-tricks !    Beally !"    He  shook  Pelle  heartily  by  the  hand. 

They  loafed  about  the  harbor,  chatting  of  old  times.  There 
was  so  much  to  recall  from  their  schooldays.  Old  Fris  with 
his  cane,  and  the  games  on  the  beach!  Per  Kofod  spoke  as 
though  he  had  taken  part  in  all  of  them;  he  had  quite  forgotten 
that  he  used  always  to  stand  still  gripping  on  to  something  and 
bellowing,  if  the  others  came  bawling  roimd  him.  ''And  Nilen, 
too,  I  met  him  lately  in  New  Orleans.  He  is  second  mate  on  a 
big  American  full-rigged  ship,  and  is  earning  big  money.  A 
smart  fellow  he  is.  But  hang  it  all,  he's  a  tough  case !  Always 
with  his  revolver  in  his  hand.  But  thaf  s  how  it  has  to  be  over 
there — among  the  niggers.  Still,  one  fine  day  they'll  slit  his 
belly  up,  by  God  they  will!  Now  then,  whafs  the  matter 
there?" 

From  some  stacks  of  timber  near  by  came  a  bellowing  as 
of  some  one  in  torment,  and  the  soimd  of  blows.  Pelle  wanted 
to  turn  aside,  but  Per  Kofod  seized  his  arm  and  dragged  him 
forward. 

In  among  the  timber-stacks  three  "coalies"  were  engaged  in 
beating  a  fourth.  He  did  not  cry  out,  but  gave  vent  to  a  muf- 
fled roar  every  time  he  received  a  blow.  The  blood  was  flowing 
down  his  face. 

"Comfi  on!"  shouted  Per  Kofod,  hitching  up  his  trousers. 
And  then,  with  a  roar,  he  hurled  himself  into  their  midst,  and 
began  to  lay  about  him  in  all  directions.  It  was  like  an  explo- 
sion with  its  following  hail  of  rocks.   Howling  Peter  had  learned 


«8  PELLE  THE  CONQUBEOE 

to  use  his  strength;  only  a  sailor  oonld  lay  about  him  in  that 
fashion.  It  was  impossible  to  say  where  his  blows  were  going 
to  fall;  bnt  they  all  went  home.  Pelle  stood  by  for  a  moment, 
mouth  and  eyes  open  in  the  fury  of  the  fray;  then  he,  too,  tum- 
bled into  the  midst  of  it,  and  the  three  dock-laborers  were  soon 
biting  the  dust. 

^amn  it  all,  why  did  you  interfere!**  said  Pelle  crossly, 
when  it  was  over,  as  he  stood  pulling  his  collar  straight. 

^  don't  know,**  said  Howling  Peter.  "But  it  does  one  no 
harm  to  bestir  one's  self  a  bit  for  once  !** 

After  the  heat  of  the  battle  they  had  all  but  forgotten  the 
man  originally  attacked;  he  lay  huddled  up  at  the  foot  of  a 
timber-stack  and  made  no  sound.  They  got  him  on  his  legs 
again,  but  had  to  hold  him  upright;  he  stood  as  limp  as  though 
asleep,  and  his  eyes  were  staring  stupidly.  He  was  making  a 
heayy  snoring  sound,  and  at  every  breath  tiie  blood  made  two  red 
bubbles  at  his  nostrils.  From  time  to  time  he  ground  his  teeth, 
and  then  his  eyes  turned  upward  and  the  whites  gleamed 
strangely  in  his  coal-blackened  face. 

The  sailor  scolded  him,  and  that  helped  him  so  far  that  he 
was  able  to  stand  on  his  feet.  They  drew  a  red  rag  from  his 
bulging  jacket-pocket,  and  wiped  the  worst  of  the  blood  away. 
''What  sort  of  a  fellow  are  you,  damn  it  all,  that  you  can't 
stand  a  drubbing?"  said  Per  Eofod. 

''I  didn't  call  for  help,"  said  the  man  thickly.  His  lips  were 
swollen  to  a  snout. 

'^ut  you  didn't  hit  back  again  I  Yet  you  look  as  if  you'd 
strength  enough.  Either  a  fellow  manages  to  look  after  himself 
or  he  sings  out  so  that  others  can  come  to  help  him.  Tyje 
see,  mate?" 

''I  didn't  want  to  bring  the  police  into  it;  and  I'd  earned  a 
thrashing.  Only  they  hit  so  damned  hard,  and  when  I  fell  they 
used  their  dogs." 

He  lived  in  fbe  Sabogade,  and  they  took  each  an  arm.  *T1 
only  I  don't  get  ill  now!"  he  groaned  from  time  to  time.  'I'm 
all  a  jelly  inside."    And  they  had  to  stop  while  he  vomited. 

There  was  a  certain  firm  for  which  he  and  his  mates  had 
decided  no  longer  to  unload,  as  they  had  cut  down  the  wages 
pSerei.    There  were  only  four  of  them  who  stuck  to  their  re- 


THE  GBEAT  STBITOOLE  69 

fusal;  and  what  use  was  it  when  others  immediately  took  their 
place?  The  four  of  them  conld  only  hang  about  and  play  the 
gentleman  at  large;  nothing  more  came  of  it.  Bnt  of  course 
he  had  given  his  word — ^that  was  why  he  had  not  hit  back. 
The  other  three  had  f  onnd  work  elsewhere,  so  he  went  back  to 
the  firm  and  ate  humble  pie.  Why  should  he  hang  about  idle 
and  killing  time  when  there  was  nothing  to  eat  at  home?  He 
was  damned  if  he  understood  these  new  ways;  all  the  same,  he 
had  betrayed  the  others,  for  he  had  given  his  word.  But  they 
had  struck  him  so  cursedly  hard,  and  had  kicked  him  in  the 
belly  with  their  clogs. 

He  continued  rambling  thus,  like  a  man  in  delirium,  as  they 
led  him  along.  In  the  Saksogade  they  were  stopped  by  a  po- 
liceman, but  Per  Eofod  quickly  told  him  a  story  to  the  effect 
that  the  man  had  been  struck  on  the  head  by  a  f  alliilg  crane. 
He  lived  right  up  in  the  attics.  When  they  opened  the  door  a 
woman  who  lay  there  in  child-bed  raised  herself  up  on  the  iron 
bedstead  and  gazed  at  them  in  alarm.  She  was  thin  and 
anaemic.  When  she  perceived  the  condition  of  her  husband  she 
burst  into  a  heartrending  fit  of  crying. 

**He*s  sober,*'  said  Pelle,  in  order  to  console  her;  **he  has 
only  got  a  bit  damaged.'' 

They  took  him  into  the  kitchen  and  bathed  his  head  over 
the  sink  with  cold  water.  But  Per  Kofod's  assistance  was  not 
of  much  use;  every  time  the  woman's  crying  reached  his  ears  he 
stopped  helplessly  and  turned  his  head  toward  the  door;  and 
suddenly  he  gave  up  and  tumbled  head-foremost  down  the  back 
stairs. 

''What  was  really  the  matter  with  you  ?"  asked  Pelle  crossly, 
when  he,  too,  could  get  away.  Per  was  waiting  at  the  door  f oi* 
him. 

Terhaps  you  didnt  hear  her  hymn-singing,  you  blockhead  I 
But,  anyhow,  you  saw  her  sitting  up  in  bed  and  looking  like 
wax?  Ifs  beastly,  I  tell  you;  ifs  infamous!  He'd  no  need  to 
go  making  her  cry  like  tiiatl  I  had  the  greatest  longing  to 
thrash  him  again,  weak  as  a  baby  though  he  was.  The  de^I— 
what  did  he  want  to  break  his  word  for?" 

''Because  they  were  starving.  Per!"  said  Pelle  earnestly. 
"That  does  happen  at  times  in  this  accursed  dty." 


70  PELLB   THE    CONQUEROR 

Kof od  stared  at  him  and  whistled.  ^^Oh^  Satan  1  Wife  and 
child,  and  the  whole  lot  without  food — ^what?  And  she  in  child- 
bed. They  were  married,  right  enough,  you  can  see  that.  Oh, 
the  devil !    What  a  honeymoon !    What  misery  I^' 

He  stood  there  plunging  deep  into  his  trouser  pockets;  he 
fetched  out  a  handful  of  things :  chewing-tobacco,  bits  of  flock^ 
broken  matches,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  a  cnmipled  ten-kroner 
note.  "So  I  thought  I^'  he  said,  fishing  out  the  note.  'I  was 
afraid  the  girls  had  quite  cleaned  me  out  last  night!  Now 
Pelle,  you  go  up  and  spin  them  some  sort  of  a  yam;  I  can't  do 
it  properly  myself;  for,  look  you,  if  I  know  that  woman  she 
won't  stop  crying  day  and  night  for  another  twenty-four  hours ! 
That* s  the  last  of  my  pay.  But — oh,  well,  blast  it  .  .  .  we  go 
to  sea  to-morrow!*' 

''She  stopped  crying  when  I  took  her  the  money,"  said  Pelle, 
when  he  came  down  again. 

'^That's  good.  We  sailors  are  dirty  beasts;  you  know;  we 
do  our  business  into  china  and  eat  our  butter  out  of  the  tar- 
bucket;  all  the  same,  we — ^I  tell  you,  I  should  have  left  the 
thing  alone  and  used  the  money  to  have  made  a  jolly  night  of  it 
to-night.  ..."  He  was  suddenly  silent;  he  chewed  at  his  quid 
as  though  inwardly  considering  his  difScult  philosophy.  ''Damn 
it  all,  to-morrow  we  put  to  sea !"  he  cried  suddenly. 

They  went  out  to  AUeenberg  and  sat  in  the  gardens.  Pelle 
ordered  beer.  "I  can  very  well  stand  a  few  pints  when  I  meet 
a  good  pal,"  he  said,  "but  at  other  times  I  save  like  the  devil. 
I've  got  to  see  about  getting  my  old  father  over  here ;  he's  liv- 
ing on  charity  at  home." 

"So  your  father's  still  living?  I  can  see  him  still  so  plainly 
— ^he  had  a  love-affair  with  Madam  Olsen  for  some  time,  but 
then  bo'sun  Olsen  came  home  unexpectedly;  they  thought  he'd 
remain  abroad." 

Pelle  laughed.  Much  water  had  run  into  the  sea  since  those 
days.  Now  he  was  no  longer  ashamed  of  Father  Lasse's  fool- 
ish prank. 

Light  was  gleaming  from  the  booths  in  the  garden.  Young; 
couples  wandered  about  and  had  their  fortunes  told ;  they  ven- 
tured themselves  on  the  Wheel  of  Happiness,  or  had  their  por- 
traits cut  out  by  the  silhouette  artist.    By  the  roundabout  was  a 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  71 

mingle  whirl  of  cries  and  music  and  brightly  colored  petticoats. 
Now  and  again  a  tremendous  outcry  arose^  curiously  dreadful^ 
oyer  all  other  sounds^  and  from  the  concert-pavilion  one  heard 
the  cracked^  straining  voices  of  one-time  "stars/*  Wretched 
little  worldlings  came  breathlessly  hurrying  thither^  pushing 
through  the  crowd,  and  disappeared  into  the  pavilion,  nodding 
familiarly  to  the  man  in  the  ticket-office  window. 

'Ifs  really  quite  jolly  here/*  said  Per  Eofod.  ^ou  have 
a  damn,  good  time  of  it  on  land  I** 

On  the  wide  pathway  under  the  trees  apprentices,  workmen, 
soldiers,  and  now  and  again  a  student,  loitered  up  and  down,  to 
and  fro,  looking  sideways  at  the  servant-girls,  who  had  stationed 
themselves  on  either  side  of  the  walk,  standing  there  arm-in- 
arm, or  forming  little  groups.  Their  eyes  sent  many  a  message 
before  ever  one  of  them  stopped  and  ventured  to  speak.  Per- 
haps the  maiden  turned  away;  if  so,  that  was  an  end  of  the 
matter,  and  the  youngster  began  the  business  all  over  again. 
Or  perhaps  she  ran  off  with  him  to  one  of  the  closed  arbors, 
where  they  drank  coffee,  or  else  to  the  roundabouts.  Several  of 
the  young  people  were  from  Pelle's  home;  and  every  time  he 
heard  the  confident  voices  of  the  Bomholm  girls  Pellets  heart 
stirred  like  a  bird  about  to  fly  away. 

Suddenly  his  troubles  returned  to  his  mind.  *1  really  felt 
inclined,  this  evening,  to  have  done  with  the  whole  thing.  .  .  . 
Just  look  at  those  two.  Per  !**  Two  girls  were  standing  arm-in- 
arm  under  a  tree,  quite  close  to  their  table.  They  were  rocking 
to  and  fro  together,  and  now  and  again  they  glanced  at  the 
two  young  men. 

^TTothing  there  for  me — ^thafs  only  for  you  land-lubbers,** 
said  Per  Eofod.  'Tor  look  you  now,  they*re  like  so  many  little 
lambs  whose  ears  you*ve  got  to  tickle.  And  then  it  all  comes 
back  to  you  in  the  nights  when  you  take  the  dog-watch  alone; 
you've  told  her  lies,  or  you  promised  to  come  back  again  when 
she  undid  her  bodice.  .  .  .  And  in  the  end  there  she  is,  planted, 
and  goin*  to  have  a  kid !  It  don*t  do.  A  sailor  ought  to  keep  to 
the  naughty  girls.** 

'^ut  married  women  can  be  frisky  sometimes,**  said  Pelle. 

'*That  so,  really?  Once  I  wouldn*t  have  believed  that  any 
one  could  have  kicked  a  good  woman ;  but  after  all  they  strangle 


72  PELLE   THE   CONQITBROR 

little  children.  •  .  .  And  they  come  and  eat  ont  of  your  hand 
if  you  give  'em  a  kind  word — ^thafs  the  mischief  of  it.  .  .  . 
D*you  remember  Howling  Peter  P* 

^TTes,  as  you  ask  me,  I  remember  him  very  welL^ 

^^eVL,  his  father  was  a  sailor,  too,  and  tiiafs  just  what  he 
did.  .  .  And  she  was  just  such  a  girl,  one  who  couldn't  say 
no,  and  believed  everything  a  man  told  her.  He  was  going  to 
come  back  again— of  course.  ^When  you  hear  the  trap-door  of 
the  loft  rattle,  thatll  be  me,'  he  told  her.  But  the  trap-door 
rattled  several  times,  and  he  didn't  come.  Then  she  hanged 
herself  from  the  trap-door  with  a  rope.  Howling  Peter  came  on 
to  the  parish.  And  you  know  how  they  all  scorned  him.  Even 
the  wenches  thought  they  had  the  right  to  spit  at  him.  He 
could  do  nothing  but  bellow.  His  mother  had  cried  such  a  lot 
before  he  was  bom,  d'ye  see?  Yes,  and  then  he  hanged  himself 
too — ^twice  he  tried  to  do  it.  He'd  inherited  that!  After  that 
he  had  a  worse  time  than  ever;  everybody  thought  it  honorable 
to  ill-use  him  and  ask  after  the  marks  on  his  throat  No,  not 
you;  you  were  the  only  one  who  didn't  raise  a  hand  to  him. 
Thaf  s  why  I've  so  often  thought  about  you.  'What  has  become 
of  him?'  I  used  to  ask  myself.  ^QoA  only  knows  where  he's  got 
to  I' "    And  he  gazed  at  Pelle  with  a  pair  of  eyes  full  of  trust. 

'^0,  that  was  due  to  Father  Lasse,"  said  Pelle,  and  his 
tone  was  quite  childlike,  '^e  always  said  I  must  be  good  to 
you  because  you  were  in  (Jod's  keeping." 

'^  God's  keeping,  did  he  say?"  repeated  Per  Kofod 
thoughtfully.  ''That  was  a  curious  thing  to  say.  Thaf  s  a  feel- 
ing I've  never  had.  There  was  nothing  in  the  whole  world  at 
that  time  that  could  have  helped  me  to  stand  up  for  myself.  I 
can  scarcely  understand  how  it  is  that  I'm  sitthig  here  talking 
to  you — ^I  mean,  that  they  didnt  torment  the  life  out  of  my 
body." 

'TTee,  you've  altered  very  much.  How  does  it  really  come 
about  that  you're  such  a  smart  fellow  now  ?" 

"Why,  such  as  I  am  now,  thafs  really  my  real  nature.  It 
has  just  waked  up,  thafs  what  I  think.  But  I  don't  understand 
really  what  was  the  matter  with  me  then.  I  knew  well  enough 
I  could  knock  you  down  if  I  had  only  wanted  to.  But  I  didn't 
dare  strike  out,  just  out  of  sheer  wretchedness.    I  saw  so  much 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  78 

that  yon  others  ootildn't  see.  Damn  it  all,  I  cant  make  head 
nor  tail  of  iti  It  most  have  been  my  mother's  dreadful  misery 
that  was  still  in  my  bones.  A  horror  nsed  to  come  over  me — 
quite  canselese — so  that  I  had  to  bellow  aloud;  and  then  the 
formers  used  to  beat  me.  And  every  time  I  tried  to  get  out  of 
it  all  by  ^fti^ging  myself ,  they  beat  me  worse  than  ever.  The 
parish  council  decided  I  was  to  be  beaten.  Well,  thafs  why  I 
donH  do  it,  Pelle — a  sailor  ought  to  keep  to  women  that  get 
paid  for  it,  if  they  have  anything  to  do  with  him — ^that  is,  if  he 
cant  get  married.    There,  you  have  my  opinion.*' 

^ouVe  had  a  very  bad  time,^  said  Pelle,  and  he  took  his 
hand,    ^ut  ifs  a  tremendous  change  thaf s  come  over  you  P 

^Change!  You  may  well  say  sol  One  moment  Howling 
Peter— and  the  next,  tiie  strongest  man  on  board !  There  you 
bave  the  whole  story  t  For  look  here  now,  at  sea,  of  course,  it 
was  just  tiie  same;  even  the  ship's  boy  felt  obliged  to  give  me 
a  kidc  on  the  shins  in  passing.  Everybody  who  got  a  blow  ov 
a  rowing  passed  it  on  to  me.  And  when  I  went  to  sea  in  an 
American  bark,  there  was  a  nigger  on  board,  and  all  of  them 
used  to  hound  him  down ;  he  crawled  before  them,  but  you  may 
take  your  oath  he  hated  them  out  of  the  whites  of  his  devil's 
eyes.  But  me,  who  treated  him  with  humanity,  he  played  all 
manner  of  tricks  on — ^it  was  nothing  to  him  that  I  was  white. 
Yet  even  with  him  I  didnt  dare  to  fetch  him  one— there  was 
always  like  a  flabby  lump  in  my  midriff.  But  once  the  thing 
went  too  far— or  else  the  still-bom  something  inside  me  was 
exhausted.  I  just  aimed  at  him  a  bit  with  one  arm,  so  that  he 
fell  down.  That  really  was  a  rummy  business.  It  was,  lef  s 
say,  like  a  fairy  tale  where  the  toad  suddenly  turns  into  a  man. 
I  set  to  then  and  there  and  thrashed  him  till  he  was  half  dead. 
And  while  I  was  about  it,  and  in  the  vein,  it  seemed  best  to  get 
Ifae  whole  thing  over,  so  I  went  right  ahead  and  thrashed  flie 
whole  crew  from  beginning  to  end.  It  was  a  tremendous  mo- 
ment, tiiere  was  such  a  heap  of  rage  inside  me  that  had  got  to 
come  out!" 

Pelle  laughed.  ^A  lucky  thing  that  I  knew  you  a  little 
while  ago,  or  you  would  have  made  mincemeat  of  me,  after 
sni" 

^ot  me,  mate,  that  was  only  a  little  joke.    A  fellow  is  in 


74  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

such  high  spirits  when  he  comes  ashore  again.  But  out  at  sea 
it's — ^thrash  the  others,  or  they'll  thrash  you!  Well,  fliafs  all 
right,  but  one  ought  to  be  good  to  the  women.  Thafs  what  I've 
told  the  old  man  on  board;  he's  a  fellow-countryman,  but  a 
swine  in  his  dealings  with  women.  There  isn't  a  single  port 
where  he  hasn't  a  love-affair.  In  the  South,  and  on  the  Ameri- 
can coast  If s  madman's  work  often,  and  I  have  to  go  along 
with  him  and  lode  out  that  he  doesn't  get  a  knife  between  his 
ribs.  Ter,'  he  says,  'this  evening  we'll  go  on  the  bust  together.' 
*A11  right,  cap'n,'  I  say.  *But  it's  a  pity  about  all  the  women.' 
*Shut  your  mouth.  Per,'  he  says;  'they're  most  of  them  married 
safe  enough.'  He's  one  of  us  from  home,  too — ^from  a  little 
cottage  up  on  the  heath." 

''What's  his  name,  then  ?"  said  Pelle,  interested. 

"Albert  Karlsen." 

"Why,  then  he's  Uncle  Kalle's  eldest,  and  in  a  way  my 
cousin — ^Ealle,  that  is  to  say,  isn't  really  his  father.  His  wife 
had  him  before  she  was  married — ^he's  the  son  of  the  owner  of 
Stone  Farm." 

"So  he's  a  Kongstrup,  then  I"  cried  Per  Kofod,  and  he 
laughed  loudly.    "Well,  that's  as  it  should  be !" 

Pelle  paid,  and  they  got  up  to  go.  The  two  girls  were  stiU 
standing  by  the  tree.  Per  Kofod  went  up  to  one  of  them  as 
though  she  had  been  a  bird  that  might  escape  him.  Suddenly 
he  seized  her  round  the  waist;  she  withdrew  herself  slowly  from 
his  grip  and  laughed  in  his  big  fair  face.  He  embraced  her  once 
again,  and  now  she  stood  still;  it  was  still  in  her  mind  to  escape, 
for  she  laughingly  half-turned  away.  He  looked  deep  into  her 
eyes,  then  released  her  and  followed  Pelle. 

"Whaf  s  the  use,  Pelle — ^why,  I  can  hear  her  complaining 
already  I  A  fellow  ought  to  be  well  warned,"  he  said,  with  a 
despairing  accent.  "But,  damn  it  all,  why  should  a  man  have 
80  much  compassion  when  he  himself  has  been  so  cruelly 
treated  ?  And  the  others ;  they've  no  compassion.  Did  you  see 
how  gentle  her  eyes  were?  If  I'd  money  I'd  marry  her  right 
away." 

'Terhaps  she  wouldn't  have  you,"  replied  Pelle.  "It  doesnt 
do  to  take  the  girls  for  granted." 

In  the  avenue  a  few  men  were  going  to  and  fro  and  caUing; 


THE    GBEAT   STRUGGLE  76 

they  were  looking  for  their  young  women,  who  had  given  them 
the  slip.  One  of  them  came  up  to  Per  and  Pelle — ^he  was  wear- 
ing a  student's  cap.  **Have  the  gentlemen  seen  anything  of  our 
ladies  ?*'  he  asked.  ^'We Ve  been  sitting  with  them  and  treating 
ihem  all  the  evening,  and  then  they  said  they'd  just  got  to  go 
to  a  certain  place,  and  they've  gone  off." 

They  went  down  to  the  harbor.  "Can't  you  come  on  board 
with  me  and  say  how  d'ye-do  to  the  old  man  ?"  said  Per.  *TBut 
of  (H)ur8e,  he's  ashore  to-night.  I  saw  him  go  over  the  side 
about  the  time  we  knocked  off — rigged  out  for  chasing  the 
girls." 

*1  dont  know  him  at  all,"  said  Pelle ;  **he  was  at  sea  already 
when  I  was  still  a  youngster.  Anyhow,  I've  got  to  go  home  to 
bed  now — I  get  to  work  early  in  the  mornings." 

They  stood  on  the  quay,  taking  leave  of  one  another.  Per 
Kof  od  promised  to  look  Pelle  up  next  time  he  was  in  port 
While  they  were  talking  the  door  of  the  after-cabin  rattled. 
Howling  Peter  drew  PeUe  behind  a  stack  of  coaL  A  powerful, 
bearded  man  came  out,  leading  a  young  girl  by  the  hand.  She 
went  slowly,  and  appeared  to  resist.  He  set  her  ceremoniously 
ashore,  turned  back  to  the  cabin,  and  locked  the  door  behind 
him.  The  girl  stood  still  for  a  moment.  A  low  'plaint  escaped 
her  lips.  She  stretched  her  arms  pleadingly  toward  the  cabin. 
Then  she  turned  and  went  mournfully  along  the  quay. 

''That  was  the  old  man,"  whispered  Per  Kofod.  '^That's 
how  he  treats  them  all — and  yet  they  don't  want  to  give  him 
up." 

Pelle  could  not  utter  a  word;  he  stood  there  cowering,  op- 
pressed as  by  some  terrible  burden.  Suddenly  he  pulled  himself 
together,  pressed  his  comrade's  hand,  and  set  off  quickly  be- 
tween the  coal-stacks. 

After  a  time  he  turned  aside  and  followed  the  young  girl 
at  a  little  distance.  Like  a  sleep-walker,  she  staggered  along  the 
quay  and  went  over  the  long  bridge.  He  feared  she  would  throw 
herself  in  the  water,  so  strangely  did  she  behave. 

On  the  bridge  she  stood  gazing  across  at  the  ship,  with  a 
frozen  look  on  her  face.  Pelle  stood  still ;  turned  to  ice  by  the 
thought  that  she  might  see  him.  He  could  not  have  borne  to 
speak  to  her  just  then — ^much  less  look  into  her  eyes. 


76  PELLE  THE   G0NQIJEB0!R 

But  then  she  moved  on.  Her  bearing^  was  broken;  from 
behind  she  looked  like  one  of  those  elderly^  shipwrecked  females 
from  the  ''Ark/'  who  shnfSed  along  by  the  honse-walls  in  trod* 
den-down  men's  shoes,  and  always  boasted  a  dubious  past. 
^Good  GodP  thought  Pelle,  ''is  her  dream  over  already? 
GoodGodr 

He  f oUowed  her  at  a  short  distance  down  the  narrow  street, 
and  as  soon  as  he  knew  that  she  must  have  reached  her  dwelling 
he  entered  the  tunnel 


vn 

In  the  depths  of  Pellets  sotd  lay  a  confident  feeling  that  he 
was  destined  for  something  partiexdar;  it  was  his  old  dream 
of  fortune^  which  would  not  be  wholly  satisfied  by  the  good 
conditions  for  all  men  which  he  wanted  to  help  to  bring  about. 
His  fate  was  no  longer  in  his  eyes  a  grievous  and  crushing  pre- 
destination to  poverty,  which  could  only  be  lifted  from  him  by 
a  miracle;  he  was  lord  of  his  own  future^  and  already  he  was 
restlessly  building  it  up  I 

But  in  addition  to  this  there  was  something  else  that  be- 
longed only  to  him  and  to  life>  something  that  no  one  else  in 
the  world  could  undertake.  What  it  was  he  had  not  yet  figured 
to  himself;  but  it  was  something  that  raised  him  above  all 
others,  secretly,  so  that  only  he  was  conscious  of  it.  It  was  the 
same  obscure  feeling  of  being  a  pioneer  that  had  always  urged 
him  forward ;  and  when  it  did  tske  the  form  of  a  definite  ques- 
tion he  answered  it  with  the  confident  nod  of  his  childhood. 
Yes,  he  would  see  it  through  all  right !  As  though  that  which 
was  to  befall  him  was  so  great  and  so  wonderful  that  it  could 
not  be  put  into  words,  nor  even  thought  of.  .  He  saw  the 
straight  path  in  front  of  him,  and  he  sauntered  on,  strong  and 
courageous.  There  were  no  other  enemies  than  those  a  prudent 
man  might  perceive;  those  lurking  forces  of  evil  which  in  his 
childhood  had  hovered  threateningly  above  his  head  were  the 
shadows  of  the  poor  man's  wretchedness.  There  was  nothing 
else  evil,  and  that  was  sinister  enough.  He  knew  now  that  the 
shadows  were  long.  Morten  was  right.  Although  he  himself 
when  a  child  had  sported  in  the  light,  yet  his  mind  was  sad- 

77 


78  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

dened  by  the  misery  of  all  those  who  were  dead  or  fighting  in 
distant  parts  of  the  earth;  and  it  was  on  this  fact  that  the  feel- 
ing of  solidarity  must  be  based.  The  miraculous  simply  had  no 
existence^  and  that  was  a  good  thing  for  those  who  had  to  fight 
with  the  weapon  of  their  own  physical  strength.  No  invisible 
deity  sat  overhead  making  his  own  plans  for  them  or  obstruct- 
ing others.  What  one  willed,  that  could  one  accomplish,  if 
only  he  had  strength  enough  to  carry  it  through.  Strength — ^it 
was  on  that  and  that  alone  that  everything  depended.  And 
there  was  strength  in  plenty.  But  the  strength  of  all  must  be 
united,  must  act  as  the  strength  of  one.  People  always  won- 
dered why  Pelle,  who  was  so  industrious  and  respectable,  should 
live  in  the  *'Ark*'  instead  of  in  the  northern  quarter,  in  the 
midst  of  the  Movement.  He  wondered  at  himself  when  he 
ever  thought  about  it  at  all;  but  he  could  not  as  yet  tear 
himself  away  from  the  ^'Ark.'*  Here,  at  the  bottom  of 
the  ladder,  he  had  foxmd  peace  in  his  time  of  need.  He  was 
too  loyal  to  turn  his  back  on  those  among  whom  he  had  been 
happy. 

He  knew  they  would  feel  it  as  a  betrayal;  the  adoration  with 
which  the  inmates  of  the  "Ark'*  regarded  the  three  orphan  chil- 
dren was  also  bestowed  upon  him;  he  was  the  foundling,  the 
fourth  member  of  the  ''Family,*'  and  now  they  were  proud  of 
him  tool 

It  was  not  the  way  of  the  inmates  of  the  ''Ark*'  to  make 
plans  for  the  future.  Sufficient  to  the  day  was  the  evil  thereof; 
to-morrow's  cares  were  left  for  the  morrow.  The  future  did  not 
exist  for  them.  They  were  like  careless  birds,  who  had  once 
suffered  shipwreck  and  had  forgotten  it.  Many  of  them  made 
their  living  where  they  could;  but  however  down  in  the  world 
they  were,  let  the  slightest  ray  of  sunlight  flicker  down  to  them, 
and  all  was  forgotten.  Of  the  labor  movement  and  other  new 
things  they  gossiped  as  frivolously  as  so  many  chattering  star- 
lings, who  had  snapped  up  the  news  on  the  wind. 

But  Pelle  went  so  confidentiy  out  into  the  world,  and  set  his 
shoulders  against  it,  and  then  came  back  home  to  them.  He 
had  no  fear;  he  could  look  Life  straight  in  the  face,  he  grap- 
pled boldly  with  the  future,  before  which  they  shudderingly 
closed  their  eyes.     And  thereby  his  name  came  to  be  spoken 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  79 

with  a  particular  accent;  Pelle  was  a  prince;  what  a  pity  it  was 
that  he  woaldn%  it  seemed^  have  the  princess ! 

He  was  tall  and  well-grown^  and  to  them  he  seemed  even 
taller.  They  went  to  him  in  their  misery,  and  loaded  it  all  on 
his  strong  yoxmg  shoulders,  so  that  he  could  bear  it  for  them. 
And  Pelle  accepted  it  all  with  an  increasing  sense  that  perhaps 
it  was  not  quite  aimlessly  that  he  lingered  here — so  near  the 
foundations  of  society ! 

At  this  time  Widow  Frandsen  and  her  son  Ferdinand  came 
upon  the  scene.    Misfortune  must  house  itself  somewhere  t 

Ferdinand  was  a  sturdy  young  fellow  of  eighteen  years, 
with  a  powerfully  modelled  head,  which  looked  as  though  it  had 
originally  been  intended  to  absorb  all  the  knowledge  there  is  in 
all  the  world.  But  he  used  it  only  for  dispensing  blows ;  he  had 
no  other  use  for  it  whatever. 

Yet  he  was  by  no  means  stupid ;  one  might  even  call  him  a 
gifted  young  man.  But  his  gifts  were  of  a  peculiar  quality, 
and  had  gradually  become  even  more  peculiar. 

As  a  little  child  he  had  been  forced  to  fight  a  besotted  father, 
in  order  to  protect  his  mother,  who  had  no  other  protector. 
This  unequal  battle  had  to  be  fought ;  and  it  necessarily  blunted 
his  capacity  for  feeling  pain,  and  particularly  his  sense  of 
danger.  He  knew  what  was  in  store  for  him,  but  he  rushed 
blindly  into  the  fray  the  moment  his  mother  was  attacked ;  just 
as  a  dog  wiU  attack  a  great  beast  of  prey,  so  he  hung  upon  the 
big  man's  fists,  and  would  not  be  shaken  off.  He  hated  his 
father,  and  he  longed  in  his  heart  to  be  a  policeman  when  he 
was  grown  up.  With  his  blind  and  obtuse  courage  he  was  par- 
ticularly adapted  to  such  a  calling;  but  he  actually  became  a 
homeless  vabagond. 

Gradually  as  he  grew  in  height  and  strength  and  the  battle 
was  no  longer  so  unequal,  his  father  began  to  fear  him  and  to 
think  of  revenge;  and  once,  when  Ferdinand  had  thoroughly 
thrashed  him,  he  reported  him,  and  the  boy  was  flogged.  The 
boy  felt  this  to  be  a  damnable  piece  of  injustice;  the  flogging 
left  scars  behind  it,  and  another  of  its  results  was  that  his 
mother  was  no  longer  left  in  peace. 

From  that  time  onward  he  hated  the  police,  and  indulged 
Us  hatred  at  every  opportunity.    His  mother  was  the  only  be- 


80  PELLE   THE    CONQUEROS     - 

ing  for  whom  he  still  cared.  It  was  like  a  fladi  of  snnshine 
when  his  father  died.  But  it  came  too  late  to  effect  any  trans- 
formation; Ferdinand  had  long  ago  begun  to  look  after  his 
mother  in  his  own  peculiar  way — ^which  was  partly  due  to  the 
conditions  of  his  life. 

He  had  grown  up  in  the  streets,  and  even  when  quite  a 
child  was  one  of  those  who  are  secretly  branded.  The  police 
knew  him  well,  and  were  only  awaiting  their  opportunity  to 
ask  him  inside.  Ferdinand  could  see  it  in  their  eyes — ^they 
reckoned  quite  confidently  on  that  visit,  and-  had  got  a  bed 
already  for  him  in  their  hotel  on  the  New  Market. 

But  Ferdinand  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  caught.  When 
he  had  anything  doubtful  in  hand,  he  always  managed  to  clear 
himself.  He  was  an  unusually  strong  and  supple  young  f ellow^ 
and  was  by  no  means  afraid  to  work;  he  obtained  all  kinds  of 
occasional  work,  and  he  always  did  it  well.  But  whenever  he 
got  into  anything  that  offered  him  a  future,  any  sort  of  regular 
work  which  must  be  learned  and  attacked  with  patience,  he 
could  never  go  on  with  it. 

*Tou  speak  to  him,  Pelle  !**  said  his  mother.  'TTou  are  so 
sensible,  and  he  does  respect  you  I''  Pelle  did  speak  to  him,  and 
helped  him  to  find  some  calling  for  which  he  was  suited;  and 
Ferdinand  set  to  work  with  a  will,  but  when  he  got  to  a  certain 
point  he  always  tiirew  it  up. 

His  mother  never  lacked  actual  necessaries ;  although  some- 
times he  only  procured  them  at  the  last  moment.  When  not 
otherwise  engaged,  he  would  stand  in  some  doorway  on  the 
market-place,  loafing  about,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his  supple 
shoulders  leaning  against  the  walL  He  was  always  in  clogs 
and  mittens ;  at  stated  intervals  he  spat  upon  the  pavement,  his 
sea-blue  eyes  following  the  passers-by  with  an  unfathomable  ex- 
pression. The  policeman,  who  was  aggressively  pacing  up  and 
down  his  beat,  glanced  at  him  in  secret  every  time  he  passed 
him,  as  much  as  to  say,  ^'Shan't  we  ever  manage  to  catch  the 
rogue  ?    Why  doesn't  he  make  a  slip  ?'' 

And  one  day  the  thing  happened— quite  of  itself,  and  not 
on  account  of  any  clumsiness  on  his  part — ^in  the  '^Ark"  they 
laid  particular  stress  upon  that.  It  was  simply  his  goodness 
of  heart  that  was  responsible.    Had  Ferdinand  not  been  the 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  81 

lad  he  was,  matters  had  not  gone  awry,  for  he  was  a  gifted  yoxing 
man. 

He  was  in  the  grocer's  shop  on  the  comer  of  the  Market 
buying  a  few  coppers'  worth  of  chewing-tobacco.  An  eight- 
year-old  boy  from  the  "Ark"  was  standing  by  the  connter,  ask- 
ing for  a  little  flour  on  credit  for  his  mother.  The  grocer  was 
making  a  tremendous  fuss  about  the  affair.  'Tut  it  down — ^I 
dare  sayl  One  keeps  shop  on  the  comer  here  just  to  feed  all 
the  poor  folks  in  the  neighborhood  I  I  shall  have  the  money 
to-morrow?  Peculiar,  it  is,  that  in  this  miserable,  poverly- 
fltricken  quarter  folks  are  always  going  to  have  money  the  very 
next  day  1    Only  the  next  day  never  comes !" 

'^erre  Petersen  can  depend  on  it,"  said  the  child,  in  a  low 
voice. 

The  grocer  continued  to  scoff,  but  began  to  weigh  the  meal. 
Before  the  scales  there  was  a  pile  of  yard  brooms  and  other 
articles,  but  Ferdinand  could  see  that  the  grocer  was  pressing 
the  scale  with  his  fingers.  He's  giving  false  weight  because  if s 
for  a  poor  person,  thought  Ferdinand,  and  he  felt  an  angry 
pricking  in  his  head,  just  where  his  thoughts  were. 

The  boy  stood  by,  fingering  something  concealed  in  his  hand. 
Suddenly  a  coin  fell  on  the  floor  and  went  rolling  round  their 
feet.  Quick  as  lightning  the  grocer  cast  a  glance  at  the  till, 
as  he  sprang  over  the  counter  and  seized  the  boy  by  the  scruff 
of  the  neck.    "Ay,  ay,"  he  said  sharply,  "a  clever  little  rogue !" 

*^  haven't  stolen  anything  I"  cried  the  boy,  trying  to  wrench 
himself  loose  and  to  pick  up  his  krone-piece.  'TTiaf  s  mother's 
money !" 

'^ou  leave  the  kid  alone  I"  said  Ferdinand  threateningly. 
"He  hasn't  done  anything!" 

The  grocer  stmggled  with  the  boy,  who  was  twisting  and 
taming  in  order  to  recover  his  money.  'Wasn't  done  any- 
thing!" he  growled,  panting,  "then  why  did  he  cry  out  about 
stealing  before  ever  I  had  mentioned  the  word?  And  where 
does  the  money  come  from?  He  wanted  credit,  because  they 
hadn't  got  any !    No,  thanks — ^I'm  not  to  be  caught  like  that" 

"The  money  belongs  to  mother!"  shrieked  the  youngster, 
twisting  desperately  in  the  grocer's  grip.  "Mother  is  ill — ^I'm 
to  get  medicine  witii  it!"   And  he  b^an  to  blubber. 


82  PELLB   THE   CONQUEROR 

'^f  8  quite  right — ^his  mother  is  ill  I'*  said  Ferdinand,  with  a 
growl.  "And  the  chemist  certainly  won't  give  credit.  You'd 
best  let  him  go,  Petersen/'    He  took  a  step  forward. 

'Tou've  thought  it  out  nicely!"  laughed  the  grocer  scorn- 
fully, and  he  wrenched  the  shop-door  open,  '^ere,  policeman, 
here !" 

The  policeman,  who  was  keeping  watch  at  the  street  comer, 
came  quickly  over  to  the  shop,  'here's  a  lad  who  plays  tricks 
with  other  folks'  money,"  said  the  grocer  excitedly.  *'Take  care 
of  him  for  a  bit,  Iversen !" 

The  boy  was  still  hitting  out  in  all  directions;  the  police- 
man had  to  hold  him  o£F  at  arm's  length.  He  was  a  ragged, 
hungry  little  fellow.  The  policeman  saw  at  a  glance  what  he 
had  in  his  fingers,  and  proceeded  to  drag  him  away;  and  there 
was  no  need  to  have  made  any  more  ado  about  the  matter. 

Ferdinand  went  after  him  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  police- 
man's arm.  "Mister  Policeman,  the  boy  hasn't  done  anything," 
he  said.  '?  was  standing  there  myself,  and  I  saw  that  he  did 
nothing,  and  I  know  his  mother  I" 

The  policeman  stood  still  for  a  moment,  measuring  Ferdi- 
nand with  a  threatening  eye;  then  he  dragged  the  boy  forward 
again,  the  latter  still  struggling  to  get  free,  and  bellowing: 
'Ttfy  mother  is  ill;  she's  waiting  for  me  and  the  medicine  I" 
Ferdinand  kept  step  with  them,  in  his  thin  canvas  shoes. 

*^f  you  drag  him  off  to  the  town  hall,  I  shall  come  with  you, 
at  all  events,  and  give  evidence  for  him,"  he  continued;  "the 
boy  hasn't  done  anything,  and  his  mother  is  lying  sick  and  wait- 
ing for  the  medicine  at  home." 

The  policeman  turned  about,  exasperated.  '?es,  you're  a 
nice  witness.  One  crow  don't  pick  another's  eyes  out.  You 
mind  your  own  business — and  just  you  be  off !" 

Ferdinand  stood  his  ground.  '^Who  are  you  talking  to, 
you  Laban?"  he  muttered,  angrily  looking  the  other  up  and 
down.  Suddenly  he  took  a  run  and  caught  the  policeman  a  blow 
in  the  neck  so  that  he  fell  with  his  face  upon  the  pavement  while 
his  helmet  rolled  far  along  the  street.  Ferdinand  and  the  boy 
dashed  off,  each  in  a  different  direction,  and  disappeared. 

And  now  they  had  been  hunting  him  for  three  weeks  already. 
He  did  not  dare  go  home.    The  "Ark"  was  watched  night  and 


THE   GREAT   STKUGQLE  83 

day^  in  the  hope  of  catching  him — ^he  was  so  fond  of  his  mother. 
Gk>d  only  knew  where  he  might  be  in  that  rainy^  cold  autumn. 
Madam  Frandsen  moved  about  her  attic,  lonely  and  forsaken. 
It  was  a  miserable  life.  Every  morning  she  came  over  to  beg 
Pelle  to  look  in  The  Working  M<m,  to  see  whether  her  son  had 
been  caught.  He  was  in  the  city — Pelle  and  Madam  Frandsen 
knew  that.  The  police  knew  it  also ;  and  they  believed  him  re- 
sponsible for  a  series  of  nocturnal  burglaries.  He  might  well 
be  sleeping  in  the  outhouses  and  the  kennels  of  the  suburban 
villas. 

The  inmates  of  the  ^^Ark"  followed  his  fate  with  painful 
interest  He  had  grown  up  beneath  their  eyes.  He  had  never 
done  anything  wrong  there;  he  had  always  respected  the  "Ark'* 
and  its  inhabitants;  that  at  least  coiQd  be  said  of  him,  and  he 
loved  his  mother  dearly.  And  he  had  been  entirely  in  the  right 
when  he  took  the  part  of  the  boy ;  a  brave  little  fellow  he  was ! 
His  mother  was  very  ill ;  she  lived  at  tiie  end  of  one  of  the  long 
gangways,  and  the  boy  was  her  only  support.  But  it  was  a  mad 
undertaking  to  lay  hands  on  the  police;  that  was  the  greatest 
crime  on  earth !  A  man  had  far  better  murder  his  own  parents 
— as  far  as  the  punishment  went.  As  soon  as  they  got  hold  of 
him,  he  would  go  to  jail,  for  the  policeman  had  hit  his  hand- 
some face  against  the  flagstones;  according  to  the  newspaper, 
anybody  but  a  policeman  woiQd  have  had  concussion  of  the 
brain. 

Old  Madam  Frandsen  loved  to  cross  the  gangway  to  visit 
Pelle,  in  order  to  talk  about  her  son. 

''We  must  be  cautious,"  she  said.  At  times  she  would  purse 
up  her  mouth,  tripping  restlessly  to  and  fro;  then  he  knew 
there  was  something  particular  in  the  wind. 

''Shall  I  tell  you  something  ?'*  she  would  ask,  looking  at  him 
importantly. 

'TTo ;  better  keep  it  to  yourself,'*  Pelle  would  reply.  "What 
one  doesnt  know  one  cant  give  evidence  about.** 

"Tou*d  better  let  me  chatter^  Pelle— else  I  shall  go  running 
in  and  gossiping  with  strangers.  Old  chatterbox  that  I  am,  I 
go  fidgeting  round  here,  and  Fve  no  one  I  can  trust;  and  I 
daren*t  even  talk  to  myself!    Then  that  Pipman  hears  it  all 


84  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROE 

through  fhe  wooden  partition;  it's  ahnost  more  than  I  can  bear, 
and  I  tr^nble  lest  my  toothless  old  mouth  shoiQd  get  him  into 
trouble  V' 

''Well,  then,  tell  it  met*'  said  Pelle,  laughing.  'TBut  you 
mustn't  speak  loud/' 

'TEe's  been  here  again!"  she  whispered,  beaming.  'TPhis 
morning,  when  I  got  up,  there  was  money  for  me  in  the  kitchen. 
Do  you  know  where  he  had  put  it?  In  the  sink!  He's  such  a 
sensible  lad!  He  must  have  come  creeping  over  the  roofs — 
otherwise  I  can't  think  how  he  does  it,  they  are  looking  for  him 
so.    But  you  must  admit  that — ^he's  a  good  lad !" 

'If  only  you  can  keep  quiet  about  it !"  said  Pelle  anxiously. 
She  was  so  proud  of  her  son ! 

"M — ^m !"  she  said,  tapping  her  shrunken  lips.  "No  need  to 
tell  me  that — and  do  you  know  what  I've  hit  on,  so  that  the 
bloodhounds  shan't  wonder  what  I  live  on  ?  I'm  sewing  canvas 
slippers." 

Then  came  little  Marie  with  mop  and  bucket,  and  the  old 
woman  hobbled  away. 

It  was  a  slack  time  now  in  Master  Beck's  workshop,  so  Pelle 
was  working  mostly  at  home.  He  could  order  his  hours  himself 
now,  and  was  able  to  use  the  day,  when  people  were  indoors,  in 
looldng  up  his  fellow-craftsmen  and  winning  them  for  the  or- 
ganization. This  often  cost  him  a  lengthy  argument,  and  he 
was  proud  of  every  man  he  was  able  to  inscribe.  He  very 
quickly  learned  to  classify  all  kinds  of  men,  and  he  suited  his 
procedure  to  the  character  of  the  man  he  was  dealing  with ;  one 
could  threaten  the  waverers,  while  others  had  to  be  enticed  or 
got  into  a  good  humor  by  chatting  over  the  latest  theories  with 
ihem.  This  was  good  practice,  and  he  accustomed  himself  to 
think  rapidly,  and  to  have  his  subject  at  his  fingers'  ends.  The 
feeling  of  mastery  over  his  means  continually  increased  in 
strength,  and  lent  assurance  to  his  bearing. 

He  had  to  make  up  for  neglecting  his  work,  and  at  such 
times  he  was  doubly  busy,  rising  early  and  sitting  late  at  his 
bench. 

He  kept  away  from  his  neighbors  on  the  third  story;  but 
when  he  heard  Hanne's  light  step  on  the  planking  over  there, 
he  used  to  peep  furtively  across  the  well.    She  went  her  way 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  86 

like  a  nun — etraight  to  her  work  and  straight  home  again,  her 
eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  She  never  looked  np  at  his  window, 
or  indeed  anywhere.  It  was  as  though  her  nature  had  completed 
its  airy  flutterings,  as  though  it  now  lay  quietly  growing. 

It  surprised  him  that  he  should  now  regard  her  with  such 
strange  and  indifferent  eyes,  as  though  she  had  never  been  any- 
thing to  him.  And  he  gazed  curiously  into  his  own  heart — ^no, 
there  was  nothing  wrong  with  him.  His  appetite  was  good,  and 
there  was  nothing  whatever  the  matter  with  his  heart.  It  must 
all  have  been  a  pleasant  illusion,  a  mirage  such  as  the  traveller 
sees  upon  his  way.  Certainly  she  was  beautiful;  but  he  could 
not  possibly  see  anything  fairy-like  about  her.  Gk)d  only  knew 
how  he  had  allowed  himself  to  be  so  entangled  I  It  was  a  piece 
of  luck  that  he  hadn't  been  caught — ^there  was  no  future  for 
Hanne. 

Madam  Johnsen  continued  to  lean  on  him  Affectionately, 
and  she  often  came  over  for  a  little  conversation ;  she  could  not 
forget  the  good  times  they  had  had  together.  She  always  wound 
up  by  lamenting  the  change  in  Hanne;  the  old  woman  felt  that 
the  girl  had  forsaken  her. 

*'Can  you  understand  whafs  the  matter  with  her,  Pelle? 
She  goes  about  as  if  she  were  asleep,  and  to  everything  I  say 
she  answers  nothing  but  ^es,  mother;  yes,  mother  I'  I  could 
cry,  it  sounds  so  strange  and  empty,  like  a  voice  from  the  grave. 
And  she  never  says  anything  about  good  fortune  now — and 
she  never  decks  herself  out  to  be  ready  for  it!  If  she'd  only 
begin  with  her  fool's  tricks  again — if  she  only  cared  to  look  out 
and  watch  for  the  stranger — ^then  I  should  have  my  child  again. 
But  she  just  goes  about  all  sunk  into  herself,  and  she  stares 
about  her  as  if  she  was  half  asleep,  as  though  she  were  in  the 
middle  of  empty  space;  and  she's  never  in  any  spirits  now.  She 
goes  about  so  unmeaning-like  with  her  own  dreary  thoughts,  it's 
like  a  wandering  corpse.  Can  you  understand  whaf  s  wrong 
with  her?" 

'TTo,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Pelle. 

^ou  say  that  so  curiously,  as  if  you  did  know  something 
and  wouldn't  come  out  with  it — ^and  I,  poor  woman,  I  don't 
know  where  to  turn."  The  good-natured  woman  began  to  cry, 
''And  why  don't  you  come  over  to  see  us  any  more?'* 


86  PELLE   THE   CONQUEKOB 

*'0h,  I  don't  know — Vye  so  much  on  hand.  Madam  John- 
sen/'  answered  Pelle  evasively. 

'If  only  she's  not  bewitched.  She  doesn't  enter  into  any- 
thing I  tell  her;  you  might  really  come  over  just  for  once; 
perhaps  that  would  cheer  her  up  a  little.  You  oughtn't  to 
take  your  revenge  on  us.  She  was  very  fond  of  you  in  her 
way — and  to  me  you've  been  like  a  son.  Won't  you  come  over 
this  evening?" 

*1  really  haven't  the  time.  But  111  see,  some  time,"  he 
said,  in  a  low  voice. 

And  then  she  went,  drooping  and  melancholy.  She  was 
showing  her  fifty  years.  Pelle  was  sorry  for  her,  but  he  could 
not  make  up  his  mind  to  visit  her. 

'?ou  are  quite  detestable!"  said  Marie,  stamping  angrily 
on  the  floor.    'It's  wretched  of  you!" 

Pelle  wrinkled  his  forehead.  'Tou  don't  understand, 
Marie." 

''Oh,  so  you  think  I  don't  know  all  about  it?  But  do  you 
know  what  the  women  say  about  you?  They  say  you're  no  man, 
or  you  woidd  have  managed  to  clip  Hanne's  feathers." 

Pelle  gazed  at  her,  wondering;  he  said  nothing,  but  looked 
at  her  and  shook  his  head. 

"What  are  you  staring  at  me  for  ?"  she  said,  placing  herself 
aggressively  in  front  of  him.  'Terhaps  you  think  I'm  afraid 
to  say  what  I  like  to  you  ?  Don't  you  stare  at  me  with  that  face, 
or  youll  get  one  in  the  mouth!"  She  was  burning  red  with 
shfune.  "Shall  I  say  something  still  worse  ?  with  you  staring  at 
me  with  that  face?  Eh?  No  one  need  think  I'm  ashamed  to 
say  what  I  like !"  Her  voice  was  hard  and  hoarse ;  she  was  quite 
beside  herself  with  rage. 

Pelle  was  perfectly  conscious  that  it  was  shame  that  was 
working  in  her.  She  must  be  allowed  to  run  down.  He  was 
silent,  but  did  not  avert  his  reproachful  gaze.  Suddenly  she 
spat  in  Ms  face  and  ran  into  her  own  room  with  a  malicious 
laugh. 

There  she  was  very  busy  for  a  time. 

There  for  a  time  she  worked  with  extreme  vigor,  but  pres- 
ently grew  quieter.  Through  the  stillness  Pelle  could  hear  her 
gently  sobbing.    He  did  not  go  in  to  her.    Such  scenes  had  oc- 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  .  87 

cnrred  between  fhem  before,  and  he  knew  that  for  the  rest  of 
the  day  she  would  be  ashamed  of  herself,  and  it  would  be  mis- 
ery for  her  to  look  him  in  the  face.  He  did  not  wish  to  lessen 
that  feeling. 

He  dr^sed  himself  and  went  out 


.t 


vm 

Thb  ''Ark^'  now  showed  as  a  clumsy  gray  mass.  It  was 
always  dark;  the  antanm  daylight  was  unable  to  penetrate  it. 
In  the  interior  of  the  mass  the  pitch-black  night  brooded  con- 
tinually; those  who  lived  there  had  to  grope  their  way  like 
moles.  In  the  darkness  sounds  rose  to  the  siurf ace  which  failed 
to  make  themselves  noticeable  in  the  radiance  of  summer.  In- 
numerable sounds  of  creatures  that  lived  in  the  half -darkness 
were  heard.  When  sleep  had  laid  silence  upon  it  all^  the  still- 
ness o{  night  unveiled  yet  another  world:  then  the  death- 
watches  audibly  bored  their  way  beneath  the  old  wall-papers, 
while  rats  and  mice  and  the  larvsB  of  wood-beetles  vied  with  one 
another  in  their  efforts.  The  darkness  was  fxdl  of  the  aromatic 
fragrance  of  the  falling  worm-dust.  All  through  this  old  box 
of  a  building  Adolution  was  at  work,  with  thousands  of  tiny 
creatures  to  aid  i^.  At  times  the  sound  of  it  all  rose  to  a  tre- 
mendous crash  which  awoke  Pelle  from  sleep,  when  some  old 
worm-eaten  timber  was  imdermined  and  sagged  in  a  fresh  place. 
Then  he  woidd  turn  over  on  the  other  side. 

When  he  went  out  of  an  evening  he  liked  to  make  his  way 
through  the  cheerful,  crowded  streets,  in  order  to  share  in  the 
brightness  of  it  all;  the  rich  luxury  of  the  shops  awakened 
something  within  him  which  noted  the  startling  contract  be- 
tween this  quarter  of  the  town  and  his  own.  When  he  passed 
from  the  brightly  lit  city  into  his  own  quarter,  the  streets  were 
like  ugly  gutters  to  drain  the  darkness,  and  the  ^'Ark^'  rose 
mysteriously  into  the  sky  of  night  like  a  ponderous  moimtain. 
Dark  cellar-openings  led  down  into  the  roots  of  the  mountain, 
and  there,  in  its  dark  entrails,  moved  wan,  grimy  creatures  with 
smoky  lamps;  there  were  all  those  who  lived  upon  the  poverty 
of  the  "Ark** — ^the  old  iron  merchant,  the  old  clothes  merchant, 
and  the  money-lender  who  lent  money  upon  tangible  pledges. 

88 


THE    GEEAT   STRUGGLE  89 

They  moved  fearfidly,  burrowing  into  strange-looking  heaps. 
The  darkness  was  ingrained  in  them ;  Pelle  was  always  reminded 
of  the  *^derground  people''  at  home.  So  the  base  of  the  cliffs 
had  opened  before  his  eyes  m  childhood,  and  he  had  shudder- 
ingly  watched  the  dwarfs  pottering  about  their  accursed  treas- 
ure. Here  they  moved  about  like  greedy  goblins,  tearing  away 
the  foundations  from  under  the  careless  beings  in  the  ''Ark/' 
80  that  one  day  these  might  well  fall  into  the  cellars — and  in  the 
meantime  they  devoured  them  hair  and  hide.  At  all  events, 
the  bad  side  of  the  fairy  tale  was  no  lie  t 

One  day  Pelle  threw  down  his  work  in  the  twilight  and  went 
off  to  carry  out  his  mission.  Pipman  had  some  days  earlier 
fallen  drunk  from  the  rickety  steps,  and  down  in  the  well  the 
children  of  the  quarter  surrounded  the  place  where  he  had 
dropped  dead,  and  illuminated  it  with  matches.  They  copld 
quite  plainly  see  the  dark  impress  of  a  shape  that  looked  like  a 
man,  and  were  all  full  of  the  spectacle. 

Outside  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel-like  entry  he  stopped  by 
the  window  of  the  old  clothes  dealer's  cellar.  Old  Pipman's 
tools  lay  spread  out  there  in  the  window.  So  she  had  got  her 
claws  into  them  too!  She  was  rummaging  about  down  there, 
scurfy  and  repulsive  to  look  at,  chewing  an  unappetizing  slice 
of  bread-and-butter,  and  starting  at  every  sound  that  came  from 
above,  so  anxious  was  she  about  her  filthy  money  I  Pelle  needed 
a  new  heel-iron,  so  he  went  in  and  purchased  that  of  Pipman. 
He  had  to  haggle  with  her  over  the  price. 

''Well,  have  you  thought  over  my  proposal?"  she  asked, 
when  the  deal  was  concluded. 

"What  proposal?"  said  Pelle,  in  all  ignorance. 

"That  you  should  leave  your  cobbling  alone  and  be  my  as- 
sistant in  the  business." 

So  that  was  what  she  meant  ?  No,  Pelle  hadn't  thought  over 
it  sufficiently. 

"I  shoald  think  there  isn't  much  to  think  over.  I  have 
offered  you  more  than  vou  could  earn  otherwise,  and  there's  not 
much  to  do.  And  I  keep  a  man  who  fetches  and  carries  things. 
If s  mostly  that  I  have  a  fancy  to  have  a  male  assistant.  I  am 
an  old  woman,  going  about  alone  here,  and  you  are  so  reliable, 
I  know  that." 


90  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROB 

She  needed  some  one  to  protect  all  the  thousands  of  kroner 
which  she  had  concealed  in  tiiese  nndergronnd  chambers.  Pelle 
knew  that  well  enough — she  had  approached  him  before  on  the 
subject. 

'1  should  scarcely  be  the  one  for  that — ^to  make  my  living 
out  of  the  poverty  of  others/*  said  Pelle,  smiling.  *Terhaps  I 
might  knodc  you  over  the  head  and  distribute  all  your  pennies 
to  the  poorP' 

The  old  woman  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  in  alarm. 
'TTgh,  what  a  horrible  thing  to  say  I*'  she  cried,  shuddering. 
'TTou  libel  your  good  heart,  joking  about  such  things.  Now 
I  shan't  Uke  to  stay  here  in  the  cellar  any  longer  when  you've 
gone.  How  can  you  jest  so  brutally  about  life  and  death?  Day 
and  night  I  go  about  here  trembling  for  my  life,  and  yet  IVe 
nothing  at  all,  the  living  Ood  knows  I've  nothing.  That  is  just 
gossip  I  Everybody  looks  at  me  as  much  as  to  say,  ?'d  gladly 
strike  you  dead  to  get  your  money  I'  And  thafs  why  I'd  like 
to  have  a  trustworthy  man  in  the  business ;  for  what  good  is  it 
to  me  that  I've  got  nothing  when  they  all  believe  I  have?  And 
there  are  so  many  worthless  fellows  who  might  fall  upon  one  at 
any  moment" 

^1f  you  have  nothing,  you  can  be  easy,"  said  Pelle  teasingly. 
^^o  need  for  an  empty  stomach  to  have  the  nightmare  t" 

^'Have  nothing !  Of  course  one  always  has  something  1  And 
Pelle" — she  leaned  confidentially  over  him  with  a  smirk  on  her 
face — ^^^ow  Mary  will  soon  come  home,  perhaps  no  later  than 
this  summer.  She  has  earned  so  much  over  there  that  she  can 
live  on  it,  and  shell  still  *be  in  the  prime  of  her  youth.  What 
do  you  think  of  that?  In  her  last  letter  she  asked  me  to  look 
out  for  a  husband  for  her.  He  need  only  be  handsome,  for  she 
has  money  enough  for  two.  Then  she'd  rent  a  big  house  in  the 
fine  part  of  the  city,  and  keep  her  own  carriage,  and  live  only 
for  her  handsome  husband.    What  do  you  say  to  that,  Pelle  ?" 

^n^Tell,  that  is  certainly  worth  thinking  over  I"  answered 
Pelle ;  he  was  in  overfiowing  high  spirits. 

^Thinking  over?  Is  that  a  thing  to  think  over?  Many  a 
poor  lord  would  accept  such  an  offer  and  kiss  my  hand  for  i^  if 
only  he  were  here." 

'3ut  I'm  not  a  lord,  and  now  I  must  be  going." 


THE    GREAT    STRUGGLE  91 

"Won't  you  just  see  her  pictures  ?**  The  old  woman  began 
to  rummage  in  a  drawer. 

^o/'  Pelle  only  wanted  to  be  gone.  He  had  seen  these 
pictures  often  enough,  grimed  with,  the  air  of  the  cellar  and 
the  old  woman's  filthy  hands;  pictures  which  represented  Mary 
now  as  a  slim  figure,  striped  like  a  tiger-cat,  as  she  sang  in  the 
fashionable  variety  theaters  of  St.  Petersburg,  now  naked,  with 
a  mantle  of  white  furs,  alone  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  Russian 
officers — ^princes,  the  old  woman  said.  There  was  also  a  picture 
from  the  aquarium,  in  which  she  was  swimming  about  in  a 
great  glass  tank  amid  some  curious-looking  plants,  with  nothing 
on  her.  body  but  golden  scales  and  diamond  ornaments.  Shd 
had  a  magnificent  body — ^that  he  could  plainly  see;  but  that 
she  could  turn  the  heads  of  fabulously  wealthy  princes  and  get 
thousands  out  of  their  pockets  merely  by  undressing  herself — 
that  he  could  not  understand.  And  he  was  to  take  her  to  wife, 
was  he? — ^and  to  get  all  that  she  had  hoarded  upt  That  was 
tremendously  funny !    That  beat  everything ! 

He  went  along  the  High  Street  with  a  rapid  step.  It  was 
raining  a  little;  the  light  from  the  street  lamps  and  shop-win- 
dows was  refiected  in  the  wet  fiagstones ;  the  street  wore  a  cheer- 
ful look.  He  went  onward  with  a  feeling  that  his  mind  was 
lifted  above  the  things  of  everyday;  the  grimy  old  woman  who 
lived  as  a  parasite  on  the  poverty  of  the  "Ark'*  and  who  had  a 
wonderful  daughter  who  was  absorbing  riches  like  a  leech.  And 
on  top  of  it  all  the  little  Pelle  with  the  'lucky  curl,"  like  the 
curly-haired  apprentice  in  the  story!  Here  at  last  was  the 
much-longed-for  fairy  tale ! 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed.  Pelle,  who  formerly 
used  to  feel  insults  so  bitterly,  had  achieved  a  sense  of  the 
divinity  of  life. 

That  evening  his  round  included  the  Rabarber  ward.  Pelle 
had  made  himself  a  list,  according  to  which  he  went  forth  to 
search  each  ward  of  the  city  separately,  in  order  to  save  him- 
self unnecessary  running  about.  First  of  all,  he  took  a  journey- 
man cobbler  in  Smith  Street;  he  was  one  of  Meyer's  regular 
workers,  and  Pelle  was  prepared  for  a  hard  fight.  The  man 
was  not  at  home.  *TBut  you  can  certainly  put  him  down,"  said 
his  wife.    '^We've  been  talking  it  over  lately,  and  we've  come 


92  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

to  see  ifs  really  the  best  thing/^  That  was  a  wife  after  Pelle's 
heart.  Many  would'  deny  that  their  husbands  were  at  home 
when  they  learned  what  Pelle  wanted ;  or  woidd  slam  the  door 
in  his  face;  they  were  tired  of  his  running  to  and  fro. 

He  visited  various  houses  in  Oardener  Street^  Castle  Street^ 
Norway  Street^  making  his  way  through  backyards  and  up  dark, 
narrow  stairs^  up  to  the  garrets  or  down  to  the  cellars. 

Over  all  was  the  same  poverty;  without  exception  the  cob- 
blers were  lodged  in  the  most  miserable  holes.  He  had  not  a 
single  success  to  record.  Some  had  gone  away  or  were  at  fresh 
addresses;  others  wanted  time  to  consider  or  gave  him  a  direct 
refusal  He  promised  himself  that  he  would  presently  give  the 
wobblers  another  call;  he  would  soon  bring  them  round;  the 
others  he  ticked  off^  keeping  them  for  better  times — ^their  day 
too  would  come  before  long  I  It  did  not  discourage  him  to 
meet  with  refusals;  he  rejoiced  over  the  single  sheep.  This 
was  a  work  of  patience,  and  patience  was  the  one  thing  in  which 
he  had  always  been  rich. 

He  turned  into  Hunter  Street  and  entered  a  barrack-like 
building,  climbing  until  he  was  right  under  the  roof,  when  he 
knocked  on  a  door.  It  was  opened  by  a  tall  thin  man  with  a 
thin  beard.  This  was  Peter,  his  fellow-'prentice  at  home.  They 
were  speedily  talking  of  the  days  of  their  apprenticeship,  and 
the  workshop  at  home  with  all  the  curious  company  there, 
^ere  was  not  much  that  was  good  to  be  said  of  Master  Jeppe. 
But  the  memory  of  the  yoimg  master  filled  them  with  warmth. 
**I  often  think  of  him  in  the  course  of  the  year,''  said  Peter, 
^e  was  no  ordinary  man.   That  was  why  he 'died.'' 

There  was  something  abstracted  ateut  Peter;  and  his  den 
gave  one  an  impression  of  loneliness.  Nothing  was  left  to  re- 
mind one  of  the  mischievous  fellow  who  must  always  be  run- 
ning; but  something  hostile  and  obstinate  glowed  within  his 
close-set  eyes.  Pelle  sat  there  wondering  what  could  really  be 
the  matter  with  him.  He  had  a  curious  bleached  look  as 
though  he  had  shed  his  skin;  but  he  wasn't  one  of  the  holy 
sort,  to  judge  by  his  conversation. 

*Teter,  whaf  s  the  truth  of  it — are  you  one  of  us  ?"  said  Pelle 
suddenly. 

A  disagreeable  smile  spread  over  Peter's  features.    '^Am  I 


THE   QBEAT   STBUOGLB  93 

one  of  you?  That  sounds  just  like  when  they  ask  you — ^have 
you  found  Jesus?    Have  you  become  a  missionary?*' 

'TTou  are  welcome  to  call  it  that/'  replied  Pelle  frankly^  '*if 
youTl  only  join  our  organization.    We  want  you/' 

^TTou  won't  miss  me — ^nobody  is  missed^  I  believe,  if  he  only 
does  his  work.  I've  tried  the  whole  lot  of  them — churches  and 
sects  and  all — and  none  of  them  has  any  use  for  a  man.  They 
want  one  more  listener,  one  more  to  add  to  their  list;  ifs 
the  same  everywhere."  He  sat  lost  in  thought,  looking 
into  vacancy.  Suddenly  he  made  a  gesture  with  his  hands 
as  though  to  wave  something  away.  ^1  don't  believe  in 
anything  any  longer,  Pelle — ^there's  nothing  worth  believ- 
ing  m." 

'T)on't  you  believe  in  improving  the  lot  of  the  poor,  then? 
You  haven't  tried  joining  the  movement?"  asked  Pelle. 

**What  should  I  do  there?  They  only  want  to  get  more  to 
eat — and  the  little  food  I  need  i  can  easily  get.  But  if  th^ 
could  manage  to  make  me  feel  that  I'm  a  man,  and  not  merely 
a  machine  that  wants  a  bit  more  greasing,  I'd  as  soon  be  a  thin 
dog  as  a  fat  one." 

'They'd  soon  do  that!"  said  Pelle  convincingly.  'If  we 
only  hold  together,  they^l  have  to  respect  the  individual  as 
well,  and  listen  to  his  demands.  The  poor  man  must  have  his 
say  with  the  rest." 

Peter  made  an  impatient  movement  ''What  good  can  it  do 
me  to  club  folks  on  the  head  till  they  look  at  me?  It  dont 
matter  a  damn  to  me  I  But  perhaps  they'd  look  at  me  of  their 
own  accord — and  say,  of  their  own  accord — ^TLook,  there  goes  a 
man  made  in  Qod's  image,  who  thinks  and  feels  in  his  heart 
just  as  I  do !'    Thaf  s  what  I  want  I" 

"I  honestly  don't  understand  what  you  mean  with  your 
^nan/  "  said^  Pelle  irritably.  "Whaf  s  the  good  of  running  your 
head  against  a  wall  when  there  are  reasonable  things  in  store 
for  us?  We  want  to  organize  ourselves  and  see  if  we  cant 
escape  from  slavery.  Afterward  every  man  can  amuse  himself 
as  he  likes." 

"Well,  well,  if  ifs  so  easy  to  escape  from  slaveryl  Why 
not?  Put  down  my  name  for  one  I"  said  Peter,  with  a  slightly 
ironical  expression. 


94  PELLE   THE   CONQUEKOB 

'Thanks,  comrade  !*'  cried  Pelle,  joyfidly  shaking  his  hand. 
''But  youTl  do  something  for  the  cause?" 

Peter  looked  about  him  foriomly.  "Horrible  weather  for 
you  to  be  out  in/'  he  said,  and  he  lighted  Pelle  down  the  stairs. 

Pelle  went  northward  along  Chapel  Street.  He  wanted  to 
look  up  Morten.  The  wind  was  chasing  the  leaves  along  by  the 
cemetery,  driving  the  rain  in  his  face.  He  kept  close  against 
the  cemetery  wall  in  order  to  get  shelter,  and  charged  against 
the  wind,  head  down.  He  was  in  the  best  of  humors.  That  was 
two  new  members  he  had  won  over;  he  was  getting  on  by  de- 
grees! What  an  odd  fish  Peter  had  become;  the  word,  "man, 
man,''  sounded  meaningless  to  Pelle's  ears.  Well,  anyhow,  he 
had  got  him  on  the  list. 

Suddenly  he  heard  light,  running  steps  behind  him.  The 
figure  of  a  man  reached  his  side,  and  pushed  a  little  packet 
under  Pelle's  arm  without  stopping  for  a  moment.  At  a  short 
distance  he  disappeared.  It  seemed  to  Pelle  as  though  he  dis- 
appeared over  the  cemetery  walL 

Under  one  of  the  street  lamps  he  stopped  and  wonderingly 
examined  the  parcel;  it  was  bound  tightly  with  tape.  "For 
mother"  was  written  upon  it  in  an  awkward  hand.  Pelle  was 
not  long  in  doubt — ^in  that  word  "mother"  he  seemed  plainly 
to  hear  Ferdinand's  hoarse  voice.  "Now  Madam  Frandsen  wiU 
be  delighted,"  he  thought,  and  he  put  it  in  his  pocket.  During 
the  past  week  she  had  had  no  news  of  Ferdinand.  He  dared  no 
longer  venture  through  Kristianshavn,  Pelle  could  not  under- 
stand how  Ferdinand  had  lit  upon  him.  Was  he  living  out  here 
in  the  Babarber  ward? 

Morten  was  sitting  down,  writing  in  a  thick  copybook.  He 
closed  it  hastily  as  Pelle  entered. 

"What  is  that  ?"  asked  Pelle,  who  wanted  to  open  the  book ; 
**are  you  still  writing  in  your  copybook?" 

Morten,  confused,  laid  his  hand  on  the  book.  "No,  Be- 
sides— oh,  as  far  as  that  goes,"  he  said,  "you  may  as  well  know. 
I  have  written  a  poem.    But  you  musbi't  speak  of  it." 

"Oh,  do  read  it  out  to  me !"  Pelle  begged. 

"Yes;  but  you  must  promise  me  to  be  silent  about  it,  or  the 
others  will  just  think  I've  gone  crazy." 

He  was  quite  embarrassed,  and  he  stammered  as  he  read.    It 


THE   QKEAT   STEUGQLB  95 

was  a  poem  about  poor  people,  who  bore  the  whole  world  on 
fheir  upraised  hands,  and  with  resignation  watched  the  enjoy- 
ment of  those  above  them.  It  was  called,  '^t  them  die  I''  and 
the  words  were  repeated  as  the  refrain  of  every  verse.  And 
now  that  Morten  was  in  the  vein,  he  read  also  an  unpretentious 
story  of  the  struggle  of  the  poor  to  win  their  bread. 

'That^s  damned  fine  I'*  cried  Pelle  enthusiastically.  ''Mon- 
strously  good,  Morten  I  I  don^t  understand  how  ytfu  put  it  to- 
gether, especially  the  verse.  But  you^re  a  real  poet.  But  IVe 
always  thought  that — ^that  you  had  something  particular  in  you. 
You've  got  your  own  way  of  looking  at  things,  and  they  won't 
clip  your  wings  in  a  hurry.  But  why  don't  you  write  about 
something  big  and  thrilling  that  would  repay  reading — ^there's 
nothing  interesting  about  us  I" 

^ut  I  find  there  is !" 

'^o,  I  don't  understand  that  What  can  happen  to  poor 
fellows  like  us?" 

'Then  don't  you  believe  in  greatness  ?" 

To  be  sure  Pelle  did.  ^^ut  why  shouldn't  we  have  splendid 
things  right  away  ?" 

'TTou  want  to  read  about  counts  and  barons  I"  said  Morten, 
'^ou  are  all  like  that.  You  regard  yourself  as  one  of  the  rabble, 
if  it  comes  to  that!  Yes,  you  do!  Only  you  don't  know  it! 
Thafs  the  slave-nature  in  you;  the  higher  classes  of  society 
regard  you  as  such  and  you  involuntarily  do  the  same.  Yes, 
you  may  pull  faces,  but  it's  true,  all  the  same !.  You  don't  like 
to  hear  about  your  own  kind,  for  you  don't  believe  they  can 
amount  to  anything!  No,  you  must  have  fine  folks — always 
rich  folks!  One  would  like  to  spit  on  one's  past  and  one's 
parents  and  climb  up  among  the  fine  folks,  and  because  one 
can't  manage  it  one  asks  for  it  in  books."  Morten  was  irri- 
tated. 

'ITo,  no,"  said  Pelle  soothingly,  ''it  isn't  as  bad  as  all  that !" 

''Yes,  it  is  as  bad  as  all  that!"  cried  Morten  passionately. 
"And  do  you  know  why?  Because  you  don't  yet  understand 
tiiat  humanity  is  holy,  and  that  if  s  all  one  where  a  man  is 
found !" 

"Humanity  is  holy?"  said  Pelle,  laughing.  "But  I'm  not 
holy,  and  I  didn't  really  think  you  were  1" 


96  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

^or  your  sake,  I  hope  you  are/'  said  Morten  earnestly,  'for 
otherwise  you  are  no  more  than  a  horse  or  a  machine  that  can 
do  so  much  work/'  And  then  he  was  silent,  with  a  look  that 
seemed  to  say  that  the  matter  had  been  sufficiently  discussed. 

Morten's  reserved  expression  made  Pelle  serious.  He  might 
jestingly  pretend  that  this  was  nonsense,  but  Morten  was  one  of 
those  who  looked  into  things — ^perhaps  there  was  something  here 
that  he  didn't  understand. 

*1  know  well  enough  that  I'm  a  clown  compared  with  you,'^ 
he  said  good-naturedly,  '%ut  you  needn't  be  so  angry  on  that 
account.  By  the  way,  do  you  still  remember  Peter,  who  was  at 
Jeppe's  with  your  brother  Jens  and  me?  He's  here,  too — ^I — 
I  came  across  him  a  little  while  ago.  He's  always  looking  into 
things  too,  but  he  can't  find  any  foundation  to  anything,  as  you 
can.  He  believes  in  nothing  in  the  whole  world.  Thhigs  are 
in  a  bad  way  with  him.  It  woidd  do  him  good  if  he  could  talk 
with  you." 

'TBut  I'm  no  prophet — ^you  are  that  rather  than  I,"  said 
Morten  ironically. 

^ut  you  might  perhaps  say  something  of  use  to  him.  No, 
I'm  only  a  trades  unionist,  and  thaf  s  no  good." 

On  his  way  home  Pelle  pondered  honestly  over  Morten's 
words,  but  he  had  to  admit  that  he  couldn't  take  them  in.  No^ 
he  had*  no  occasion  to  surround  his  person  with  any  sort  of  holi- 
ness or  halo;  he  was  only  a  healthy  body,  and  he  just  wanted  to 
do  things. 


IX 

Phllb  came  mBhing  home  from  Master  Beck's  workshop^ 
threw  oft  his  coat  and  waistcoat^  and  thrust  his  head  into  a 
bucket  of  water.  While  he  was  scrubbing  himself  dry,  he  ran 
over  to  the  **Family/'  **Woiild  yon  care  to  come  out  with  me  ? 
I  have  some  tickets  for  an  evening  entertainment — only  you 
must  hurry  up/* 

The  three  children  were  sitting  round  the  table,  doing  tricks 
with  cards.  The  fire  was  crackling  in  the  stove,  and  there  was 
a  delicious  smell  of  coffee.  They  were  tired  after  the  dajr's 
work  and  they  didn't  feel  inclined  to  dress  themselves  to  go 
out.  One  could  see  how  they  enjoyed  feeling  that  they  were  at 
home,  '^otl  should  give  Hanne  and  her  mother  the  tidcets,'' 
said  Marie,  'they  never  go  ouf 

Pelle  thought  the  matter  over  while  he  was  dressing.  Well, 
why  not  ?   After  all,  it  was  stupid  to  rake  up  an  old  story. 

Hanne  did  not  want  to  go  with  him.  She  sat  with  downcast 
eyes,  like  a  lady  in  her  boudoir,  and  did  not  look  at  him.  But 
Madam  Johnsen  was  quite  ready  to  go— the  poor  old  woman 
quickly  got  into  her  best  clothes. 

*r[f  s  a  long  time  since  we  two  have  been  out  together, 
Pelle,"  she  said  gaily,  as  they  walked  through  the  city.  'TTouVe 
been  so  frightfully  busy  lately.  They  say  you  go  about  to 
meetings.  That  is  all  right  for  a  young  man.  Do  you  gain 
anything  by  it?*' 

^TTes,  one  could  certainly  gain  something  by  it — ^if  only  one 
used  one's  strength  t" 

^'What  can  you  gain  by  it,  then?  Are  you  going  to  eat  up 
the  Germans  again,  as  in  my  yoxmg  days,  or  what  is  it  you  are 
after?" 

t7 


98  PELLE   THE    CONQUEROR 

'^e  Vant  to  make  life  joist  a  little  happier/'  said  PeUe 
quietly. 

^^Oh^  you  don't  want  to  gain  anything  more  than  happiness? 
That's  easy  enough,  of  course !"  said  Madam  Johnsen,  laughing 
loudly.  "Why,  to  be  sure,  in  my  pretty  young  days  too  the  men 
wanted  to  go  to  the  capital  to  make  their  fortunes.  I  was  just 
sixteen  when  I  came  here  for  purposes  of  my  own — ^where  was 
a  pretty  girl  to  find  everything  splendid,  if  not  here?  One 
easily  made  friends — there  were  plenty  to  go  walking  with*a 
nice  girl  in  thin  shoes,  and  they  wanted  to  give  her  all  sorts  of 
fine  things,  and  every  day  brought  its  happiness  with  it. 
But  then  I  met  a  man  who  wanted  to  do  the  best  thing  by  me, 
and  who  believed  in  himself,  too.  He  got  me  to  believe  that  the 
two  of  us  together  might  manage  something  lasting.  And  he 
was  just  such  a  poor  bird  as  I  was,  with  empty  hands — ^but  he 
set  to  valiantly.  Clever  in  his  work  he  was,  too,  and  he  thought 
we  could  make  ourselves  a  quiet,  happy  life,  cozy  between  our 
four  walls,  if  only  we'd  work.  Happiness — ^poohl  He  wanted 
to  be  a  master,  at  all  costs — ^for  what  can  a  journeyman  earn  1 
And  more  than  once  we  had  scraped  a  little  together,  and 
thought  things  would  be  easier  now;  but  misfortune  always 
fell  on  us  and  took  it  all  away.  If  s  always  hovering  like  a  ^ 
great  bird  over  the  poor  man's  home;  and  you  must  have  a  long 
stick  if  you  want  to  drive  it  away!  It  was  always  the  same 
story  whenever*  we  managed  to  get  on  a  little.  A  whole  winter 
he  was  ill.  We  only  kept  alive  by  pawning  all  we'd  got,  stick 
by  stick.  And  when  the  last  thing  had  gone  to  the  devil  we 
borrowed  a  bit  on  the  pawn-ticket."  The  old  woman  had  to 
pause  to  recover  her  breath. 

*^Why  are  we  hurrying  like  this?"  she  said,  panting.  "Any 
one  would  think  the  world  was  trying  to  run  away  from  us !" 

"Well,  there  was  nothing  left  I"  she  continued,  shuflBing  on 
again.  "And  he  was  too  tired  to  begin  all  over  again,  so  we 
moved  into  the  ^Ark.'  And  when  he'd  got  a  few  shillings  he 
sought  consolation — but  it  was  a  poor  consolation  for  me,  who 
was  carrying  Hanne,  that  you  may  believe !  She  was  like  a  gift 
after  all  that  misfortune ;  but  he  couldn't  bear  her,  because  our 
fancy  for  a  little  magnificence  was  bom  again  in  her.  She  had 
inherited  that  from  us — ^poor  little  thing ! — ^with  rags  and  dirt 

1 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  99 

to  set  it  off.  YoTi  should  just  have  seen  her,  as  quite  a  little 
childy  making  up  the  fine  folks'  world  out  of  the  rags  she  got 
together  out  of  the  dustbins.  'What's  that?'  Johnsen  he  said 
once — ^he  was  a  little  less  full  than  usual.  'Oh^  thafs  the  best 
room  with  the  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  there  by  the  stove  is 
your  room,  father.  But  you  mustn't  spit  on  the  floor,  because 
we  are  rich  people.' " 

Madam  Johnsen  began  to  cry.  ''And  then  he  struck  her  on 
the  head.  'Hold  your  tongue  1'  he  cried,  and  he  cursed  and 
swore  at  the  child  something  frightful.  'I  don't  want  to  hear 
your  infernal  chatter  I'  Thaf  s  the  sort  he  was.  Life  began  to 
be  a  bit  easier  when  he  had  drowned  himself  in  the  sewer.  The 
times  when  I  might  have  amused  myself  he'd  stolen  from  me 
with  his  talk  of  the  future,  and  now  I  sit  there  turning  old 
soldiers'  trousers  that  fill  the  room  with  filth,  and  when  I  do 
two  a  day. I  can  earn  a  mark.  And  Hanne  goes  about  like  a 
sleep-walker.  Happiness!  Is  there  a  soul  in  the  'Ark'  that 
didn't  begin  with  a  firm  belief  in  something  better?  One 
doesn't  move  from  one's  own  choice  into  such  a  mixed  louse's 
nest,  but  one  ends  up  there  all  the  same.  And  is  there  any- 
body here  who  is  really  sure  of  his  daily  bread?  Yes,  Olsens 
with  the  warm  wall,  but  they've  got  their  daughter's  shame  to 
thank  for  that." 

"All  the  more  reason  to  set  to  work,"  said  Pelle. 

"Yes,  you  may  well  say  that!  But  any  one  who  fights 
against  the  unconquerable  will  soon  be  tired  out.  No,  let 
things  be  and  amuse  yourself  while  you  are  still  young.  But 
don't  you  take  any  notice  of  my  complaining — ^me — an  old 
whimperer,  I  am — ^walking  with  you  and  being  in  the  dumps 
like  tiiis — ^now  well  go  and  amuse  ourselves!"  And  now  she 
looked  quite  contented  again. 

"Then  take  my  arm — it's  only  proper  with  a  pair  of  sweet- 
hearts," said  Pelle,  joking.  The  old  woman  took  his  arm  and 
went  tripping  youthfully  along.  "Yes,  if  it  had  been  in  my 
yoxmg  days,  I  would  soon  have  known  how  to  dissuade  you  from 
your  silly  tricks,"  she  said  gaily.  "I  should  have  been  taking 
you  to  the  dance." 

"But  you  didn't  manage  to  get  Johnsen  to  give  them  up," 
said  Pelle  in  reply. 


100  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

'ITo,  becauae  then  I  was  too  credulous.  But  no  one  would 
succeed  in  robbing  me  of  my  youth  now  !** 

The  meeting  was  held  in  a  big  hall  in  one  of  the  side  streets 
by  the  North  Bridge.  The  entertainment,  which  was  got  up 
by  some  of  the  agitators,  was  designed  principally  for  young 
people;  but  many  women  and  young  girls  were  present.  Among 
other  things  a  poem  was  read  which  dealt  with  an  old  re- 
spectacle  blacksmith  who  was  ruined  by  a  strike.  'That  may 
be  very  fine  and  touching/'  whispered  Madam  Johnsen,  polish- 
ing her  nose  in  her  emotion,  'Tbut  they  really  ought  to  have 
something  one  can  laugh  over.    We  see  misfortune  every  day." 

Then  a  small  choir  of  artisans  sang  some  songs,  and  one  of 
the  older  leaders  mounted  the  platform  and  told  them  about 
the  early  years  of  the  movement.  When  he  had  finished,  he 
asked  if  there  was  no  one  else  who  had  something  to  tell  them. 
It  was  evidently  not  easy  to  fill  out  the  evening. 

There  was  no  spirit  in  the  gathering.  The  women  were  not 
finding  it  amusing,  and  the  men  sat  watching  for  anything  they 
could  carp  at.  Pelle  knew  most  of  those  present;  even  the 
young  men  had  hard  faces,  on  which  could  be  read  an  obstinate 
questioning.  This  homely,  innocent  entertainment  did  not  ap- 
pease the  burning  impatience  which  filled  their  hearts,  listening 
for  a  promise  of  better  things. 

Pelle  sat  there  pained  by  the  proceedings;  the  passion  for 
progress  and  agitation  was  in  his  very  blood.  Here  was  such 
an  opportunity  to  strike  a  blow  for  imification,  and  it  was  pass- 
ing unused.  The  women  only  needed  a  little  rousing,  the  fac- 
tory-girls and  the  married  women  too,  who  held  back  their 
husbands.  And  they  stood  up  there,  frittering  away  the  time 
with  their  singing  and  their  poetry-twaddle  1  With  one  leap 
he  stood  on  the  platform. 

^AU  these  fine  words  may  be  very  nice,"  he  cried  passion- 
ately, '%ut  they  are  very  little  use  to  all  those  who  canH  live 
on  them!  The  clergyman  and  the  dog  earn  their  living  with 
their  mouths,  but  the  rest  of  us  are  thrown  on  our  own  resources 
when  we  want  to  get  anything.  ^-Why  do  we  slink  round  the 
point  like  cats  on  hot  bricks,  why  all  this  palaver  and  preach- 
ing? Perhaps  we  don't  yet  know  what  we  want?  They  say 
we've  been  slaves  for  a  thousand  years!     Then  we  ought  to 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  101 

have  had  time  enough  to  think  it  out  I  Why  does  so  little  hap- 
pen,  although  we  are  all  waiting  for  somethings  and  are  ready? 
Is  there  no  one  anywhere  who  has  the  courage  to  lead  usP' 

Loud  applause  followed,  especially  from  the  young  men; 
they  stamped  and  shouted.  Pelle  staggered  down  from  the  plat^ 
form;  he  was  covered  with  sweat. 

The  old  leader  ascended  the  platform  again  and  thanked 
his  colleagues  for  their  acceptable  entertainment.  He  turned 
also  with  smiling  thanks  to  Pelle.  It  was  gratifying  that  there 
was  still  fire  glowing  in  the  young  men;  although  the  occasion 
was  unsuitable.  The  old  folks*  had  led  the  movement  through 
evil  times;  but  they  by  no  means  wished  to  prevent  youth  from 
testing  itself. 

Pelle  wanted  to  stand  up  and  make  some  answer,  but  Madam 
Johnsen  held  him  fast  by  his  coat.  *rBe  quiet,  Pelle,'*  she 
whispered  anxiously;  '^ouTl  venture  too  far.'*  She  would  not 
let  go  of  him,  so  he  had  to  sit  down  again  to  avoid  attracting 
attention.  His  cheeks  were  burning,  and  he  was  as  breathless 
as  though  he  had  been  running  up  a  hill.  It  was  the  first  time 
he  had  ventured  on  a  public  platform;  excitement  had  sent  him 
thither. 

The  people  began  to  get  up  and  to  mix  together.  **Is  it 
over  already  ?*'  asked  Madam  Johnsen.  Pelle  could  see  that  she 
was  disappointed. 

'TTo,  no;  now  we'll  treat  ourselves  to  something,"  he  said, 
leading  the  old  woman  to  a  table  at  the  back  of  the  hall.  '^What 
can  I  oflEer  you?" 

^^Goffee,  please,  for  me  I  But  you  ought  to  have  a  glass  of 
beer,  you  are  so  warm  1" 

Pelle  wanted  coflfee  too.  'TTou're  a  funny  one  for  a  man !" 
she  said,  laughing.  ''First  you  go  pitching  into  a  whole  crowd 
of  men,  and  then  you  sit  down  here  with  an  old  wife  Uke  me 
and  drink  coffee !  What  a  crowd  of  people  there  are  here ;  it's 
almost  like  a  holiday  I"  She  sat  looking  about  her  with  shining 
eyes  and  rosy  cheeks,  like  a  young  girl  at  a  dance.  'Take  some 
more  of  the  skin  of  the  milk,  Pelle;  you  haven't  got  any. 
This  really  is  cream  1" 

The  leader  came  up  to  ask  if  he  might  make  Pelle's  ac- 
quaintance.- "I've  heard  of  you  from  the  president  of  your 


102  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

Union/'  he  said^  giving  Pelle  his  hand.  ^T,  am  glad  to  make 
your  acquaintance;  you  have  done  a  pretty  piece  of  work/' 

''Oh,  it  wasn't  so  bad/'  said  Pelle,  blushing.  ''But  it  really 
would  be  fine  if  we  could  really  get  to  work  1" 

"I  know  your  impatience  only  too  well/'  retorted  the  old 
campaigner,  laughing. '  "It's  always  so  witii  the  young  men. 
But  those  who  really  want  to  do  something  must  be  able  to 
see  to  the  end  of  the  road."  He  patted  Pelle  on  the  shoulders 
and  went. 

Pelle  felt  that  the  people  were  standing  about  him  and 
speaking  of  him.  God  knows  whether  you  haven't  made  your- 
self ridiculous,  he  thought.  Close  by  him  two  young  men  were 
standing,  who  kept  on  looking  at  him  sideways.  Suddenly 
they  came  up  to  him. 

"We  should  much  like  to  shake  hands  with  you/'  said  one 
of  them.  "My  name  is  Otto  Stolpe,  and  this  is  my  brother 
Prederik.  That  was  good,  what  you  said  up  there,  we  want  to 
thank  you  for  it !"  They  stood  by  for  some  little  while,  chatting 
to  Pelle.  "It  woidd  please  my  father  and  mother  too,  if  they 
coidd  make  your  acquaintance,"  said  Otto  Stolpe.  "Would  you 
care  to  come  home  with  us?" 

"I  can't  very  well  this  evening;  I  have  some  one  with  me," 
replied  Pelle. 

"You  go  with  them,"  said  Madam  Johnsen.  "I  see  some 
folks  from  Kristianshavn  back  there,  I  can  go  home  with 
them." 

"But  we  were  meaning  to  go  on  the  spree  a  bit  now  that 
we've  at  last  come  outl"  said  Pelle,  smiling. 

"God  forbid  1  No,  we've  been  on  the  spree  enough  for  one 
evening,  my  old  head  is  quite  turned  already.  You  just  be 
oflf;  thafs  a  thing  I  haven't  said  for  thirty  years!  And 
many  thanks  for  bringing  me  with  you."  She  laughed  bois- 
terously. 

The  Stolpe  family  lived  in  Elm  Street,  on  the  second  floor 
of  one  of  the  new  workmen's  tenement  houses.  The  stairs  were 
roomy,  and  on  the  door  there  was  a  porcelain  plate  with  their 
«name  on  it.  In  the  entry  an  elderly,  well-dressed  woman  came 
up  to  them. 

"Here  is  a  comrade,  mother,"  said  Otto. 


THE    GREAT    STRUGGLE  103 

*^elcome/'  she  said,  as  she  took  Pelle's  hand.  She  held  it 
a  moment  in  her  own  as  she  looked  at  him. 

In  the  living  room  sat  Stolpe,  a  mason,  reading  The  Work- 
ing  Man.  He  was  in  shirt  sleeves,  and  was  resting  his  heavy 
arms  on  the  table.  He  read  whispering  to  himself,  he  had  not 
noticed  that  a  guest  was  in  the  room. 

"Here's  some  one  who  would  like  to  say  how-d'ye-do  to 
father,'*  said  Otto,  laying  his  hand  on  his  father's  arm. 

Stolpe  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  Pelle.  ^Terhaps  you 
would  like  to  join  the  Union?"  he  asked,  rising  with  difflciQty, 
with  one  hand  pressed  on  the  table.  He  was  tall,  his  hair  was 
sprinkled  with  gray;  his  eyes  were  mottled  from  the  impact  of 
splinters  of  limestone. 

^TTou  and  your  Union!"  said  Madam  Stolpe.  'Terhaps 
you  think  there's  no  one  in  it  but  you !" 

*Tfo,  mother;  little  by  little  a  whole  crowd  of  people  have 
entered  it,  but  all  the  same  I  was  the  first." 

*Tm  already  in  the  Union,"  said  Pelle.  ''But  not  in  yours. 
I'm  a  shoemaker,  you  know." 

''Shoemaker,  ah,  thafs  a  poor  trade  for  a  journeyman;  but 
all  the  same  a  man  can  get  to  be  a  master ;  but  to-day  a  mason 
can't  do  that — ^there's  a  great  difference  there.  And  if  one  re- 
mains a  journeyman  all  his  life  long,  he  has  more  interest  in 
modifying  his  position.  Do  you  understand?  That's  why  the 
organization  of  the  shoemakers  has  never  been  of  more  than 
middling  dimensions.  Another  reason  is  that  they  work  in 
their  own  rooms,  and  one  can't  get  them  together.  But  now 
there's  a  new  man  come,  who  seems  to  be  making  things  move.'* 

"Yes,  and  this  is  he,  father,"  said  Otto,  laughing. 

"The  deuce,  and  here  I  stand  making  a  fool  of  myself! 
Then  111  say  how-d'ye-do  over  again !  And  here's  good  luck  to 
your  plans,  young  comrade."  He  shook  Pelle  by  the  hand.  "I 
think  we  might  have  a  drop  of  beer,  mother?" 

Pelle  and  Stolpe  were  soon  engaged  in  a  lively  conversation ; 
Pelle  was  in  his  element.  Until  now  he  had  never  found  his 
way  to  the  heart  of  the  movement.  There  was  so  much  he 
wanted  to  ask  about,  and  the  old  man  incontinently  told  him  of 
the  growth  of  the  organization  from  year  to  year,  of  their  first 
beginning,  when  there  was  only  one  trades  unionist  in  Den- 


104  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOB 

mark,  namely^  himself^  down  to  the  present  time.  He  knew  all 
the  numbers  of  the  various  trades,  and  was  precisely  informed 
as  to  the  development  of  each  individual  union.  The  sons  sat 
silent,  thoughtfully  listening.  When  they  had  something  to 
say,  tiiey  always  waited  until  the  old  man  nodded  his  head  to 
show  that  he  had  finished.  The  younger,  Frederik,  who  was  a 
mason's  apprentice,  never  said  '^ou''  to  his  father;  he  ad« 
dressed  him  in  the  third  person,  and  his  continual  '^f  aiher  says, 
father  thinks,'*  sounded  curious  to  Pelle's  ears. 

While  they  were  still  talking  Madam  Stolpe  opened  the 
door  leading  into  an  even  prettier  room,  and  invited  tiiem  to  go 
in  and  to  drink  their  coffee.  The  living-room  had  already  pro- 
duced an  extremely  pleasant  impression  on  Pelle,  with  its  oak« 
grained  dining-room  suite  and  its  horse-hair  sofa.  But  here 
was  a  red  plush  suite,  an  octagonal  table  of  walnut  wood,  with 
a  black  inlaid  border  and  twisted  wooden  feet,  and  an  ^tagire 
fuU  of  knick-knacks  and  pieces  of  china;  mostly  droll,  impudent 
little  things.  On  the  walls  hung  pictures  of  trades  unions  and 
assemblies  and  large  photographs  of  workshops;  one  of  a  build- 
ing  during  construction,  with  the  scaffolding  full  of  the  brick- 
layers and  their  mortar-buckets  beside  them,  each  with  a  trowel 
or  a  beer-bottle  can  in  his  hand.  On  the  wall  over  the  sofa 
hung  a  large  half-length  portrait  of  a  dark,  handsome  man  in  a 
riding-cloak.  He  looked  half  a  dreamy  adventurer,  half  a 
soldier. 

^'Thafs  the  grand  master,''  said  Stolpe  proudly,^  standing  at 
Pelle's  side.  'T?here  was  always  a  crowd  of  women  at  his 
heels.  But  they  kept  themselves  politely  id  the  background,  for 
a  fire,  went  out  of  him  at  such  times — do  you  xmderstand  ?  Then 
it  was — Men  to  the  front !  And  even  the  laziest  fellow  pricked 
up  his  ears." 

'TPhen  he's  dead  now,  is  he?"  asked  Pelle,  with  interest. 

Stolpe  did  not  answer.  'TVell,"  he  said  briefly,  "shall  we 
have  our  coffee  now?"  Otto  winked  at  Pelle;  here  evidently 
was  a  matter  that  must  not  be  touched  upon. 

Stolpe  sat  staring  into  his  cup,  but  suddenly  he  raised  his 
head.  ^TPhere  are  things  one  doesn't  understand,"  he  cried 
earnestly,  '^ut  this  is  certain,  that  but  for  the  grand  master 
here  I  and  a  whole  host  of  other  men  wouldn't  perhaps  be  re- 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  106 

spectable  fathers  of  families  to-day.  There  were  many  smart 
fellows  among  ns  young  comrades^  as  is  always  the  case;  but 
as  a  mle  the  gifted  ones  always  went  to  the«dogs.  For  when  a 
man  has  no  opportunity  to  alter  things,  he  naturally  grows  im- 
patient, and  then  one  fine  day  he  begins  to  pour  spirit  on  the 
flames  in  order  to  stop  his  mouth.  I  myself  had  that  accursed 
feeling  that  I  must  do  something,  and  little  by  little  I  began 
to  drink.  But  then  I  discovered  the  movement,  before  it  ex- 
isted, I  might  venture  to  say;  it  was  in  the  air  like,  d'you  see. 
It  was  as  though  something  was  coming,  and  one  sniffed  about 
like  a  dog  in  order  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  it.  Presently  it  was. 
Here  it  is!  There  it  is!  But  when  one  looked  into  it,  there 
was  just  a  few  hungry  men  bawling  at  one  another  about  some- 
thing or  other,  but  the  devil  himself  didn't  know  what  it  was. 
But  then  the  grand  master  came  forward,  and  that  was  like  a 
flash  of  light  for  all  of  us.  For  he  could  say  to  a  nicety  just 
where  the  shoe  pinched,  although  he  didn't  belong  to  our  class 
at  alL  Since  that  time  there's  been  no  need  to  go  searching  for 
the  best  people — ^they  were  always  to  be  f  oxmd  in  the  movement  I 
Although  there  weren't  very  many  of  them,  the  best  people  were 
always  on  the  side  of  the  movment." 

'nSut  now  there's  wind  in  the  sails,"  said  PeUe. 

'TTes,  now  there's  talk  of  it  everywhere.  -  But  to  whom  is 
that  due?    God  knows,  to  us  old  veterans — ^and  to  him  there!" 

Stolpe  began  to  talk  of  indifferent'  matters,  but  quite  invol- 
untarily the  conversation  returned  to  the  movement;  man  and 
wife  lived  and  breathed  for  nothing  else.  They  were  brave, 
honest  people,  who  quite  simply  divided  mankind  into  two  parts : 
those  who  were  for  and  those  who  were  against  the  movement. 
Pelle  seemed  to  breathe  more  freely  and  deeply  in  this  home, 
where  the  air  was  as  though  steeped  in  Socialism. 

He  noticed  a  heavy  chest  which  stood  against  the  wall  on 
four  twisted  legs.  It  was  thickly  ornamented  with  nail-heads 
and  looked  like  an  old  muniment  chest. 

'^es — ^thafs  the  standard!"  said  Madam  Stolpe,  but  she 
checked  herself  in  alarm.    Mason  Stolpe  knitted  his  brows. 

''Ah,  well,  you're  a  decent  fellow,  after  all,"  he  said.  ''One 
needn't  slink  on  tiptoe  in  front  of  you  I"  He  took  a  key  out  oi 
a  secret  compartment  in  his  writing-table.    "Now  the  danger's 


106  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

a  thing  of  the  past^^  but  one  still  has  to  be  carefoL  Thafs  a 
vestige  of  the  times  when  things  used  to  go  hardly  with  us. 
The  police  used  to  •be  down  on  all  our  badges  of  common  unity. 
The  grand  master  himself  came  to  me  one  evening  with  the  flag 
under  his  cloak^  and  said  to  me,  HTou  must  look  out  for  it^ 
Stolpe,  you  are  the  most  reliable  of  us  all/  *' 

He  and  his  wife  unfolded  the  great  piece  of  bunting.  "See, 
that's  the  banner  of  the  International.  It  looks  a  little  the 
worse  for  wear,  for  it  has  undergone  all  sorts  of  treatment.  At 
the  communist  meetings  out  in  the  fields,  when  the  troops  were 
sent  against  us  with  ball  cartridge,  it  waved  over  the  speaker's 
platform,  and  held  us  together.  When  it  flapped  over  our  heads 
it  was  as  though  we  were  swearing  an  oath  to  it.  The  police 
understood  that,  and  they  were  mad  to  get  it.  They  went  for 
the  flag  during  a  meeting,  but  nothing  came  of  it,  and  since 
then  they've  hunted  for  it  so,  ifs  had  to  be  passed  from  man  to 
man.    In  that  way  it  has  more  than  once  come  to  me." 

'^es,  and  once  the  police  broke  in  here  and  took  father 
away  as  we  were  sitting  at  supper.  They  turned  the  whole  place 
upside  down,  and  dragged  him  off  to  the  cells  without  a  word 
of  explanation.  The  children  were  little  then,  and  you  can 
imagine  how  miserable  it  seemed  to  me.  I  didn't  know  when 
they  would  let  him  out  again." 

^es,  but  they  didn't  get  the  colors,"  said  Stolpe,  and  he 
laughed  heartily.  '^  had  already  passed  them  on,  they  were 
never  very  long  in  one  place  in  those  days.  Now  they  lead 
a  comparatively  quiet  life,  and  mother  and  the  rest  of  us 
tool" 

The  yoxmg  men  stood  in  silence,  gazing  at  the  standard  that 
had  seen  so  many  vicissitudes,  and  that  was  like  the  hot  red 
blood  of  the  movement.  Before  Pelle  a  whole  new  world  was 
unfolding  itself;  the  hope  that  had  burned  in  the  depths  of  his 
soul  was  after  all  not  so  extravagant.  When  he  was  still  run* 
ning  wild  at  home,  playing  the  games  of  childhood  or  herding 
the  cows,  strong  men  had  already  been  at  work  and  had  laid  the 
foundations  of  the  cause.  ...  A  peculiar  warmth  spread 
through  him  and  rose  to  his  head.  If  only  it  had  been  he  who 
had  waved  the  glowing  standard  in  the  face  of  the  oppressor — 
he,  Pelle  I 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  107 

''And  now  it  lies  here  in  the  chest  and  is  forgotten  1^'  he  said 
dejectedly. 

'It  is  only  resting/'  said  Stolpe.  'Torgotten,  yes;  the  po- 
lice have  no  idea  that  it  still  exists.  But  fix  it  on  a  staff,  and 
you  will  see  how  the  comrades  flock  about  it !  Old  and  young 
alike.  There's  fire  in  that  bit  of  cloth  1  True  fire,  that  never 
goes  out!'' 

Carefully  they  folded  the  colors  and  laid  them  back  in  the 
chest.  "It  won't  do  even  now  to  speak  aloud  of  the  colors  1 
You  understand  ?"  said  Stolpe. 

There  was  a  knock,  and  Stolpe  made  haste  to  lock  the  chest 
and  hide  the  key,  while  Frederik  went  to  the  door.  They  looked 
at  one  another  uneasily  and  stood  listening. 

"It  is  only  Ellen,"  said  Frederik,  and  he  returned,  followed 
by  a  tall  dark  girl  with  an  earnest  bearing.  She  had  a  veil 
over  her  face,  and  before  her  mouth  her  breath  showed  like  a 
pearly  tissue. 

"Ah,  thaf  s  the  lass  I"  cried  Stolpe,  laughing.  "What  folly— 
we  were  quite  nervous,  just  as  nervous  as  in  the  old  days.  And 
you're  abroad  in  the  streets  at  this  hour  of  night !  And  in  this 
weather?"  He  looked  at  her  affectionately;  one  could  see  that 
she  was  his  darling.    Outwardly  they  were  very  xmlike. 

She  greeted  Pelle  with  the  tiniest  nod,  but  looked  at  him 
earnestly.  There  was  something  still  and  gracious  about  her 
that  fascinated  him.  She  wore  dark  clothes,  without  the  slight- 
est adornment,  but  they  were  of  good  sound  stuff. 

"Won't  you  change?"  asked  the  mother,  unbuttoning  her 
cloak.    "You  are  quite  wet,  child." 

"No,  I  must  go  out  again  at  once,"  Ellen  replied.  '*I  only 
wanted  to  peep  in." 

"But  it's  really  very  late,"  grumbled  Stolpe.  "Are  you  only 
off  duty  now?" 

"Yes,  it's  not  my  going-out  day." 

"Not  to-day  again?  Yes,  it's  sheer  slavery,  till  eleven  at 
night!" 

"Thaf  s  the  way  things  are,  and  it  doesn't  make  it  any  bet- 
ter for  you  to  scold  me,"  said  Ellen  courageously. 

"No,  but  you  needn't  go  out  to  service.  There's  no  sense 
in  our  children  going  out  to  service  in  the  houses  of  the 


108  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

employers.  Don't  you  agree  with  me?'*  He  turned  to 
PeUe. 

Ellen  laughed  brightly.  'TEfs  all  the  same — ^father  works 
for  the  employers  as  welL*' 

'TTes,  but  that's  a  different  thing.  If s  from  one  fixed  hour 
to  another^  and  then  ifs  over.  But  this  other  work  is  a  home ; 
she  goes  from  one  home  to  another  and  undertakes  all  the  dirty 
work.*' 

^Tather's  not  in  a  position  to  keep  me  at  home.'' 

'^  know  that  very  well^  but  all  the  same  I  can't  bear  it. 
Besides^  you  could  surely  get  some  other  kind  of  work." 

'HTes,  but  I  don't  want  to  I  I  claim  the  right  to  dispose  of 
myself !"  she  replied  heatedly. 

The  others  sat  silent,  looking  nervously  at  one  another.  The 
veins  swelled  on  Stolpe's  forehead;  he  was  purple,  and  terribly 
angry.  But  Ellen  looked  at  him  with  a  little  laugh.  He  got  up 
and  went  grumbling  into  the  other  room. 

Her  mother  shook  her  head  at  Ellen.  She  was  quite  pale. 
"Oh,  child,  child  1"  she  whispered. 

After  a  while  Stolpe  returned  with  some  old  newspapers, 
which  he  wanted  to  show  Pelle.  Ellen  stood  behind  his  chair, 
looking  down  at  them;  she  rested  her  arm  on  his  shoulders 
and  idly  rufSed  his  hair.  The  mother  pulled  at  her  skirt. 
The  papers  were  illustrated,  and  went  back  to  the  stirring 
times. 

The  clock  struck  the  half -hour;  it  was  half -past  eleven. 
Pelle  rose  in  consternation;  he  had  quite  forgotten  the  time. 

'Take  the  lass  with  you,"  said  Stolpe.  'TTou  go  the  same 
way,  don't  you,  Ellen  ?  Then  you'll  have  company.  There's  no 
danger  going  with  her,  for  she's  a  saint."  It  soxmded  as  though 
he  wanted  to  make  up  for  his  scolding.  ''Come  again  soon;  you 
will  always  be  welcome  here." 

They  did  not  speak  much  on  the  way  home.  Pelle  was  em- 
barrassed, and  he  had  i^  feeling  that  she  was  considering  him 
and  thinking  him  over  as  they  walked,  wondering  what  sort  of 
a  fellow  he  might  be.  When  he  ventured  to  say  something,  she 
answered  briefly  and  looked  at  him  searchingly.  And  yet  he 
found  it  was  an  interesting  walk.  He  would  gladly  have  pro^ 
longed  it. 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  109 

^^any  thanks  for  your  company/'  he  said,  when  they  stood 
at  her  house-door.    '?  should  be  very  glad  to  see  you  again.'^ 

^ou  will  if  we  meet,^  she  said  taciturnly;  but  she  gave 
him  her  hand  for  a  moment. 

'^e  are  sure  to  meet  again  1  Be  sure  of  that  V'  cried  Pelle 
jovially,  '^ut  you  are  forgetting  to  reward  me  for  my  escort?^ 
He  bent  over  her. 

She  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment — ^with  eyes  that  were 
turning  him  to  stone,  he  thought  Then  she  slowly  turned  and 
went  indoors. 


X 

One  day,  after  his  working  hours,  Pelle  was  taking  some 
freshly  completed  .work  to  the  Court  shoemakert.  The  fore- 
man took  it  and  paid  for  it,  and  proceeded  to  give  out  work  to 
the  others,  leaving  Pelle  standing.  Pelle  waited  impatiently, 
but  did  no  more  than  clear  his  throat  now  and  again.  This  was 
the  way  of  these  people ;  one  had  to  put  up  with  it  if  one  wanted 
work.  ''Have  you  forgotten  me  ?*'  he  said  at  last,  a  little  impa- 
tiently. 

''You  can  go,''  said  the  foreman.    "You've  finished  here.'^ 

"What  does  that  mean?"  asked  Pelle,  startled. 

"It  means  what  you  hear.  You've  got  the  sack — ^if  you 
understand  that  better." 

Pelle  understood  that  very  well,  but  he  wanted  to  establish 
the  fact  of  his  persecution  in  the  presence  of  his  comrades. 
"Have  you  any  fault  to  find  with  my  work?"  he  asked. 

"You  mix  yourself  up  too  much  with  things  that  don't  con- 
cern you,  my  good  fellow,  and  then  you  can't  do  the  work  yon 
ought  to  do." 

"I  should  like  very  much  to  know  what  fault  you  have  to 
find  with  my  work,"  said  Pelle  obstinately. 

"Go  to  the  devil  1  I've  told  you  already  I"  roared  the  fore- 
man. 

The  Court  shoemaker  came  down  through  the  door  of  the 
back  room  and  looked  about  him.  When  he  saw  Pelle,  he  went 
up  to  him. 

"You  get  out  of  here,  and  that  at  once !"  he  cried,  in  a  rage. 
"Do  you  think  we  give  bread  to  people  that  undermine  us? 
Out,  out  of  my  place  of  business,  Mossoo  Trades-Unionist !" 

Pelle  stood  his  ground,  and  looked  his  employer  in  the 
eyes;  he  would  have  struck  the  man  a  blow  in  the  face  rather 

110 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  111 

than  allow  himself  to  be  sent  away.  'TBe  cool,  now;  be  coolK' 
he  said  to  himself.  He  laughed,  but  his  features  were  quiver- 
ing. The  Court  shoemaker  kept  a  certain  distance^  and  con- 
tinued to  shout,  **Out  with  himl  Here,  foreman,  (ill  the  po- 
lice at  once  1'' 

'TTow  you  can  see,  comrades,  how  they  value  one  here,** 
said  Pelle,  turning  his  broad  back  on  Meyer,  '^e  are  dogs; 
•nothing  more  !'* 

They  stood  there,  staring  at  the  counter,  deaf  and  dumb  in 
their  dread  of  taking  sides.    Then  Pelle  went 

He  made  his  way  northward.  His  heart  was  full  of  violent 
emotion.  Indignation  raged  within  him  like  a  tempest,  and  by 
fits  and  starts  found  utterance  on  his  lips.  Meyer^s  work  was 
quite  immaterial  to  him;  it  was  badly  paid,  and  he  only  did  it 
as  a  stop-gap.  But  it  was  disgusting  to  think  they  could  buy 
his  convictions  with  badly-paid  work !  And  there  they  stood  not 
daring  to  show  their  colors,  as  if  it  wasn't  enough  to  support 
such  a  fellow  with  their  slrill  and  energy!  Meyer  stood  there 
like  a  wall,  in  the  way  of  any  real  progress,  but  he  needn't  think 
he  could  strike  at  Pelle,  for  he'd  get  a  blow  in  return  if  he  did ! 

He  went  straight  to  Mason  Stolpe,  in  order  to  talk  the  mat- 
ter over  with  him;  the  old  trades  unionist  was  a  man  of  great 
experience. 

''So  he's  one  of  those  who  go  in  for  the  open  slave-trade !" 
said  Stolpe.  ''We've  had  a  go  at  them  before  now.  'We've 
done  with  you,  my  good  man ;  we  can  make  no  use  of  agitators !' 
And  if  one  steals  a  little  march  on  them — ^'Off  you  go;  you're 
done  with  here !'  I  myself  have  been  like  a  hunted  cur,  and  at 
home  mother  used  to  go  about  crying.  I  could  see  what  she 
was  feeling,  but  when  I  put  the  matter  before  her  she  said,  'Hold 
out,  Stolpe,  you  shan't  give  in  I'  Tou're  forgetting  our  daily 
bread,  mother,'  I  say.  'Oh,  our  daily  bread.  I  can  just  go  out 
washing!'  That  was  in  those  days — ^they  sing  another  tune  to 
us  now !  Now  the  master  politely  raises  his  hat  to  old  Stolpe ! 
If  he  thinks  he  can  allow  himself  to  hound  a  man  down,  an 
embargo  must  be  put  on  him !" 

PeUe  had  nothing  to  say  against  that.  "If  only  it  works," 
he  said.    "But  our  organization  looks  weak  enough  as  yet." 

"Only  try  it;  in  any  case,  you  can  always  damage  him.    He 


112  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

attacks  your  livelihood  in  order  to  strike  at  your  conscience^ 
so  yon  hit  back  at  his  pnrse — ^thafs  where  his  conscience  is! 
Even  if  it  does  no  good,  at  least  it  makes  him  realize  that  you're 
not  a  slave.'' 

Pelle  sat  a  while  longer  chatting.  He  had  secretly  hoped  to 
meet  Ellen  again^  but  he  dared  not  ask  whether  that  was  her 
day  for  coming  home.  Madam  Stolpe  invited  him  to  stay  and 
to  have  supper  with  them — she  was  only  waiting  for  her  sons. 
But  Pelle  had  no  time;  he  must  be  off  to  think  out  instructions 
for  the  embargo.  ^^Then  come  on  Sxmday/'  said  the  mother; 
''Sunday  is  Ellen's  birthday." 

Witii  rapid  strides  he  went  off  to  the  president  of  the 
Union;  the  invitation  for  the  following  Sunday  had  dissipated 
the  remains  of  his  anger.  The  prospect  of  a  tussle  with  Meyer 
had  put  him  in  the  best  of  tempers.  He  was  certain  of  win- 
ning the  president,  Petersen^  for  his  purpose^  if  only  he  could 
find  him  out  of  bed;  he  himself  had  in  his  time  worked  for 
wholesale  shoemakers^  and  hated  them  like  the  plague.  It  was 
said  that  Petersen  had  worked  out  a  clever  little  invention — a 
patent  button  for  ladies'  boots — ^which  he  had  taken  to  Meyer, 
as  he  himself  did  not  know  how  to  exploit  it.  But  Meyer  had, 
without  more  ado^  treated  the  invention  as  his  own,  inasmuch  as 
it  was  produced  by  one  of  his  workmen.  He  took  out  a  patent 
and  made  a  lot  of  money  by  it^  trifling  as  the  thing  was.  When 
Petersen  demanded  a  share  of  the  profits,  he  was  dismissed. 
He  himself  never  spoke  of  the  matter;  he  just  sat  in  his  cellar 
brooding  over  the  injustice,  so  that  he  never  managed  to  recover 
his  position.  Almost  his  whole  time  had  been  devoted  to  the 
Union,  so  that  he  might  revenge  himself  through  it;  but  it 
never  really  made  much  progress.  He  fired  up  passionately 
enough,  but  he  was  lacking  in  persistence.  And  his  lungs  were 
weak. 

He  trembled  with  excitement  when  Pelle  explained  his  plan. 
''Great  God  in  heaven^  if  only  we  coidd  get  at  him !"  he  whis- 
pered hoarsely,  clenching  his  skinny  fists  which  Death  had  al- 
ready marked  with  its  dusky  shadows.  "I  would  willingly  give 
my  miserable  life  to  see  the  scoundrel  ruined  I  Look  at  that  I" 
He  bent  down,  whispering,  and  showed  Pelle  a  file  ground  to  a 
point,  which  was  fastened  into  a  heavy  handle.   "If  I  hadn't  the 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  113 

children,  he  would  have  got  that  between  his  ribs  long  before 
this  t'^  His  gray,  restless  eyes,  which  reminded  Pelle  of  Anker, 
the  crazy  dockmaker,  had  a  cold,  piercing  expression. 

'Tes,  yes/'  said  Pelle,  laying  his  hand  soothingly  on  the 
other's;  but  ifs  no  use  to  do  anything  stupid.  We  shall  only 
do  what  we  want  to  do  if  we  all  stand  together.'' 

The  day  was  well  spent;  on  the  very  next  evening  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Union  were  summoned  to  a  meeting.'  Petersen 
spoke  first,  and  beginning  with  a  fiery  speech.  It  was  like  the 
final  efforts  of  a  dying  man.  '^ou  organize  the  struggle,"  said 
Petersen.  'Tm  no  good  nowadays  for  that — and  I've  no 
strength.  But  111  sound  the  assault-— ay,  and  so  that  they  wake 
up.  Then  you  yourself  must  see  to  keeping  the  fire  alight  in 
them."  His  eyes  burned  in  their  shadowy  sockets;  he  stood 
there  like  a  martyr  upholding  the  necessity  of  the  conflict. 
The  embargo  was  agreed  upon  unanimously  I 

Then  Pelle  came  forward  and  organized  the  necessary  plan 
of  campaign.  It  was  his  turn  now.  There  was  no  mpney  in  the 
chest,  but  every  man  had  to  promise  a  certain  contribution  to 
be  divided  among  those  who  were  refusing  to  work.  Every  man 
must  do  his  share  to  deprive  Meyer  of  all  access  to  the  labor 
market.  And  there  was  to  be  no  delirious  enthusiasm — ^which 
they  would  r^ret  when  they  woke  up  next  morning.  It  was  es- 
sential that  every  man  should  form  beforehand  a  clear  concep- 
tion of  the  difficulties,  and  must  realize  what  he  was  pledging 
himself  to.    And  then — ^three  cheers  for  a  successful  issue  I 

This  business  meant  a  lot  of  running  about.  But  what  of 
that  I  Pelle,  who  had  to  sit  such  a  lot,  wouldn't  suffer  from 
getting  out  into  the  fresh  air  I  He  employed  the  evenings  in 
making  up  for  lost  time.  He  got  work  from  the  small  employ- 
ers in  Kristianshavn,  who  were  very  busy  in  view  of  Christinas, 
which  made  up  for  that  which  he  had  lost  through  the  Court 
shoemaker. 

On  the  second  day  after  his  dismissal,  the  declaration  of  the 
embargo  appeared  under  the  'TJabor  Items"  in  The  Working 
Man.  ''Assistance  strictly  prohibited!"  It  was  like  the  day's 
orders,  given  by  Pelle's  own  word  of  mouth.  He  cut  the  notice 
out,  and  now  and  again,  as  he  sat  at  his  work,  he  took  it  out 
and  considered  it    This  was  Pelle— although  it  didn't  say 


114  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

Pelle  and  the  big  employer  were  having  a  bit  of  a  tussle !  Now 
they  should  see  which  was  the  stronger! 

Pelle  went  often  to  see  Stolpe.  Strangely  enough,  his  visits 
always  coincided  with  Ellen's  days  off.  Then  he  accompanied 
her  homeward,  and  they  walked  side  by  side  talking  of  serious 
things.  There  was  nothing  impetuous  about  them — ^they  be- 
haved as  though  a  long  life  lay  before  them.  His  vehemence 
cooled  in  the  conflict  with  Meyer.  He  was  sure  of  Ellen's 
character,  imapproachable  though  she  was.  Something  in  him 
told  him  that  she  ought  to  be  and  would  remain  so.  She  was 
one  of  those  natures  to  whom  it  is  difficult  to  come  out  of  their 
shell,  so  as  to  reveal  the  kernel  within;  but  he  felt  that  there 
was  something  that  was  growing  for  him  within  that  reserved 
nature,  and  he  was  not  impatient. 

One  evening  he  had  as  usual  accompanied  her  to  the  door, 
and  they  stood  there  bidding  one  another  good  night.  She 
gave  him  her  hand  in  her  shy,  awkward  manner,  which  might 
even  mean  reluctance,  and  was  th^i  about  to  go  indoors. 

^'But  are  we  going  on  like  this  all  our  lives?''  said  Pelle, 
holding  her  fingers  tightly.    'T!  love  you  so!" 

She  stood  there  a  while,  with  an  impenetrable  expression, 
then  advanced  her  face  and  kissed  him  mechanically,  as  a  child 
kisses,  with  tightly  closed  lips.  She  was  already  on  her  way 
to  the  house  when  she  suddenly  started  back,  drew  him  to  her- 
self, and  kissed  him  passionately  and  unrestrainedly.  There 
was  something  so  violent,  so  wild  and  fanatical  in  her  demeanor, 
that  he  was  quite  bewildered.  He  scarcely  recognized  her,  and 
when  he  had  come  to  himself  she  was  already  on  her  way  up  the 
kitchen  steps.  He  stood  still,  as  though  blinded  by  a  rain  of 
fire,  and  heard  her  running  as  though  pursued. 

Since  that  day  she  had  been  another  creature.  Her  love 
was  like  the  spring  that  comes  in  a  single  night.  She  could  not 
be  without  him  for  a  day;  when  she  went  out  to  make  purchases, 
she  came  running  over  to  the  "Ark."  Her  nature  had  thrown 
off  its  restraint ;  there  was  tension  in  her  manner  and  her  move- 
ments; and  this  tension  now  and  again  escaped  from  within  in 
little  explosions.  She  did  not  say  very  much;  when  they  were 
together,  she  clung  to  him  passionately  as  though  to  deaden 
some  pain,  and  hid  her  face;  if  he  lifted  it,  she  kept  her  eyes 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  116 

persistently  closed.  Then  she  hreathed  deeply,  and  sat  down 
smiling  and  humming  to  herself  when  he  spoke  to  her. 

It  was  as  though  she  was  delving  deep  into  his  inmost  being, 
and  Felle,  who  felt  the  need  to  reach  and  to  know  that  inner 
nature,  drew  confidence  from  her  society.  No  matter  what 
confronted  him,  he  had  always  sought  in  his  inner  self  for  his 
natural  support,  anxiously  listening  for  that  which  came  to  the 
surface,  and  xmconsciously  doubting  and  inquiring.  And  now, 
80  surely  as  she  leaned  silently  on  his  arm,  she  confirmed  some- 
thing deep  within  him,  and  her  steadfast  gaze  vibrated  within 
him  like  a  proud  vocation,  and  he  felt  himself  infinitely  rich. 
She  spoke  to  something  deep  within  him  when  she  gazed  at 
him  so  thoughtfully.  But  what  she  said  he  did  not  know — ^nor 
what  answer  she  received.  When  he  recalled  her  from  that 
gaze  of  hers,  as  of  one  bewitched,  she  only  sighed  like  one  awak- 
ing, and  kissed  him. 

Ellen  was  loyal  and  xmselfish  and  greatly  valued  by  her  em- 
ployers. There  was  no  real  development  to  be  perceived  in  her 
— she  longed  to  become  his — ^and  that  was  all.  But  the  future 
was  bom  on  Pellets  own  lips  under  her  dreamy  gaze,  as  though 
it  was  she  who  inspired  him  with  the  illuminating  words.  And 
then  she  listened  with  an  absent  smile — as  to  something  de- 
lightful; but  she  herself  seemed  to  give  no  thought  to  the  fu- 
ture. She  seemed  full  of  a  hidden  devotion,  that  filled  Pelle 
with  an  inward  warmth,  so  that  he  held  up  his  head  very  high 
toward  the  light.  This  constant  devotion  of  Ellen's  made  the 
children  'Tamily**  teasingly  call  her  '%e  Saint.'* 

It  gave  him  much  secret  pleasure  to  be  admitted  to  her 
home,  where  the  robust  Copenhagen  humor  concealed  condi- 
tions quite  patriarchal  it  their  nature.  Everything  was  found- 
ed on  order  and  respect  for  the  parents,  especially  the  father, 
who  spoke  the  decisive  word  in  every  matter,  and  had  his  own 
place,  in  which  no  one  else  ever  sate.  When  he  came  home 
from  his  work,  the  grown-up  sons  would  always  race  to  take  him 
his  slippers,  and  the  wife  always  had  some  extra  snack  for  him. 
The  younger  son,  Frederik,  who  was  just  out  of  his  apprentice- 
ship, was  as  delighted  as  a  child  to  think  of  the  day  when  he 
should  become  a  journeyman  and  be  able  to  drink  brotherhood 
with  the  old  man. 


116  PELLB   THE   CONQUEEOB 

They  lived  in  a  new,  spacions,  three-roomed  tenement  with 
a  servant's  room  thrown  in;  to  Pelle^  who  was  accustomed  to 
find  his  comrades  over  here  living  in  one  room  with  a  kitchen, 
this  was  a  new  experience.  The  sons  boarded  and  lodged  at 
home;  they  slept  in  the  servant's  room.  The  household  was 
foimded  on  and  supported  by  their  common  energies;  although 
the  family  submitted  imconditionally  to  the  master  of  the  house, 
they  did  not  do  so  out  of  servility;  they  only  did  as  all  others 
did.  For  Stolpe  was  the  foremost  man  in  his  calling,  an  es- 
teemed worker  and  the  veteran  of  the  labor  movement.  His 
word  was  imchallenged. 

Ellen  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  respect  his  supremacy, 
but  courageously  opposed  him,  often  without  any  further  mo- 
tive than  that  of  contradiction.  She  was  the  only  girl  of  the 
family,  and  the  favorite;  and  she  took  ^AYBIitAge  of  her  posi- 
tion. Sometimes  it  looked  as  though  Stolpe  would  be  driven 
to  extremities;  as  though  he  longed  to  pulverize  her  in  his 
wrath;  but  he  always  gave  in  to  her. 

He  was  greatly  pleased  with  Pelle.  And  he  secretly  admired 
his  daughter  more  than  ever,  '^ou  see,  mother,  there's  some- 
thing in  that  lass  I  She  imderstands  how  to  pick  a  man  for 
himself  I^'  he  would  cry  enthusiastically. 

'^es;  I've  nothing  against  him,  either,'^  Madam  Stolpe 
would  reply.  "A  bit  coimtrified  still,  but  of  course  he's  grow- 
ing out  of  it." 

''Countrified  ?  He  ?  No,  you  take  my  word,  he  knows  what 
he  wants.  She's  really  found  her  master  there!"  said  Stolpe 
triumphantly. 

In  the  two  brothers  Pelle  found  a  pair  of  loyal  comrades, 
who  could  not  but  look  up  to  him. 


XI 

With  the  embargo  matters  were  going  bo-so.  Meyer  replied 
to  it  by  convoking  the  employers  to  a  meeting  with  a  view  to 
establishing  an  employers'  union^  which  would  refuse  employ- 
ment to  the  members  of  the  trade  nnion.  Then  the  matter 
would  have  been  settled  at  one  blow. 

However,  things  did  not  go  so  far  as  that.  The  small  em- 
ployers were  afraid  the  journeymen  would  set  up  for  themselves 
and  compete  against  them.  And  instinctively  they  feared  the 
big  employers  more  than  the  journeymen,  and  were  shy  of 
entering  the  Union  with  them.  The  inner  tendency  of  the 
industrial  movement  was  to  concentrate  everything  in  a  few 
hands,  and  to  ruin  the  small  business.  The  small  employers 
had  yet  another  crow  to  pluck  with  Meyer,  who  had  extended 
his  business  at  the  expense  of  their  own. 

Through  Master  Beck,  Pelle  learned  what  was  taking  place 
among  the  employers.  Meyer  had  demanded  that  Beck  should 
discharge  Pelle,  but  Beck  would  not  submit  to  him. 

^  can't  really  complain  of  you,*'  he  said.  'Tour  trades- 
unionism  I  don't  like — ^you  would  do  better  to  leave  it  alone. 
But  with  your  work  I  am  very  well  satisfied.  I  have  always 
endeavored  to  render  justice  to  all  parties.  But  if  you  can 
knock  Meyer's  feet  from  under  him,  we  small  employers  will 
be  very  grateful  to  your  Union,  for  he's  freezing  us  out." 

To  knock  his  feet  from  under  him — ^that  wasn't  an  easy 
thing  to  do.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  driving  the  weaker 
brethren  out  of  the  Union,  and  had  always  enough  workers — 
partly  Swedes,  with  whom  he  had  a  written  contract,  and  whom 
he  had  to  pay  high  wages.  The  system  of  home  employment 
made  it  impossible  to  get  to  grips  with  him.  Pelle  and  the 
president  of  the  Union  carefully  picketed  the  warehouse  about 

m 


118  PELLB   THE   CONQUEEOE 

the  time  when  the  work  was  delivered,  in  order  to  discover  who 
was  working  for  him.  And  they  succeeded  in  snatching  a  few 
workers  away  from  him  and  in  bringing  theia  to  reason,  or 
else  their  names  were  published  in  The  Working  Man.  But 
then  the  journeymen  sent  their  wives  or  children  with  the  work 
— and  there  was  really  nothing  that  could  be  done.  It  cost 
Meyer  large  sums  of  money  to  keep  his  business  going,  but  the 
Union  suffered  more.  It  had  not  as  yet  sufficient  authority,  and 
the  large  employers  stood  by  Meyer  and  would  not  employ  mem- 
bers of  the  Union  as  long  as  the  embargo  lasted.  So  it  was 
finally  raised. 

That  was  a  defeat;  but  Felle  had  learned  something,  none 
the  less!  The  victory  was  to  the  strong,  and  their  organiza-' 
tion  was  not  as  yet  siifficient.  They  must  talk  and  agitate,  and 
hold  meetings!  The  tendency  to  embrace  the  new  ideas  cer- 
tainly inclined  the  men  to  organize  them^lves,  but  their  sense 
of  honor  was  as  yet  imdeveloped.  The  slightest  mishap  dis- 
persed them. 

Pelle  did  not  lose  heart;  he  must  begin  all  over  again, 
that  was  all. 

On  the  morning  after  the  defeat  was  an  accomplished  fact 
he  was  up  early.  His  resolution  to  go  ahead  with  redoubled 
energies,  he  had,  so  to  speak,  slept  into  him,  so  that  it  pervaded 
his  body  and  put  energy  and  decision  into  his  hammer-strokes. 

He  whistled  as  the  work  progressed  rapidly  under  his  hands. 
The  window  stood  open  so  that  the  night  air  might  escape;  hoar 
frost  lay  on  the  roofs,  and  the  stars  twinkled  overhead  in  the 
cold  heavens.  But  Pelle  was  not  cold  I  He  had  just  awakened 
the  *Tamily*'  and  could  hear  them  moving  about  in  their  room. 
People  were  beginning  to  tumble  out  into  the  gangway,  still 
drunken  with  sleep.  Pelle  was  whistling  a  march.  On  the 
previous  evening  he  had  sent  off  the  last  instalment  of  his  debt' 
to  Sort,  and  at  the  same  time  had  written  definitely  to  Father 
Lasse  tiiat  he  was  to  come.    And  now  the  day  was  dawning ! 

Marie  came  and  reached  him  his  coffee  through  the  door. 
*'Gk)od  morning  1''  she  cried  merrily,  through  the  crack  of  the 
door.  'We're  going  to  have  fine  weather  to-day,  Pelle!'*  She 
was  not  quite  dressed  yet  and  would  not  let  herself  be  seen. 
The  boys  nodded  good  morning  as  they  ran  out.    Karl  had  his 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  119 

coat  and  waistcoat  under  his  arm.  These  articles  of  clothing 
he  always  used  to  put  on  as  he  ran  down  the  stairs. 

When  it  was  daylight  Marie  came  in  to  set  the  room  in 
order.    She  convers^  with  him  as  she  scrubbed. 

'*Look  here,  Marie  1*'  cried  Pelle  suddenly.  ^'Ellen  came 
here  yesterday  and  asked  you  to  bring  me  a  message  when  I 
came  home.    You  didn't  do  it.'* 

Marie's  face  became  set,  but  she  did  not  reply. 

'*It  was  only  by  pure  chance  that  I  met  her  yesterday,  other- 
wise we  should  have  missed  one  another." 

'TPhen  I  must  have  forgotten  it,"  said  Marie  morosely. 

''Why,  of  course  you  forgot  it.  But  that's  the  second  time 
this  week.    You  must  be  in  love !"  he  added,  smiling. 

Marie  turned  her  back  on  him.  'Tve  got  nothing  to  do 
with  her — ^I  don't  owe  her  anything!"  suddenly  she  cried  de- 
fiantly. "And  I'm  not  going  to  clean  your  room  any  longer, 
either — ^let  her  do  it — so  there !"  She  seized  her  pail  and  scrub- 
bing-brush and  ran  into  her  own  room.  After  a  time  he  heard 
her  voice  from  within  the  room;  at  first  he  thought  she  was 
singing  a  tune  to  herself,  but  then  he  heard  sobs. 

He  hurried  into  the  room;  she  was  lying  on  the  bed,  weep- 
ing, biting  the  pillow  and  striking  at  it  angrily  with  her  rough- 
ened hands.    Her  thin  body  burned  as  if  with  fever. 

'TTou  are  ill,  Marie  dear,"  said  Pelle  anxiously,  laying  his 
hand  on  her  forehead.  'TTou  ought  to  go  to  bed  and  take  some- 
thing to  make  you  sweat.    I'll  warm  it  up  for  you." 

She  was  really  ill;  her  eyes  were  dry  and  burning,  and  her 
hands  were  cold  and  clammy.  But  she  would  agree  to  nothing. 
''Go  away!"  she  said  angrily,  "and  attend  to  your  own  work! 
Leave  me  alone  1"  She  had  turned  her  back  on  him  and  nudged 
him  away  defiantly  with  her  shoulder.  "You'd  best  go  in  and 
cufidle  Ellen !"  she  cried  suddenly,  with  a  malicious  laugh. 

"Why  are  you  like  this,  Marie  ?"  said  Pelle,  distressed.  "You 
are  quite  naughty !" 

She  buried  her  face  in  the  bed  and  would  neither  look  at 
him  nor  answer  him.    So  he  went  back  to  his  work. 

After  a  time  she  came  into  his  room  again  and  resumed  her 
work  of  cleaning.  She  banged  the  things  about;  pulling  down 
some  work  of  his  that  he  had  set  to  dry  by  the  stove,  and  giving 


120  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

him  a  malicioiifi  sidelong  look.  Then  a  cup  containing  paste 
fell  to  the  ground  and  was  broken.  ^^She  did  that  on  purpose/' 
he  thought  unhappily^  and  he  put  the  paste  into  an  empty  box. 
She  stood  watching  him  with  a  piercings  malicious  gaze. 

He  turned  to  his  work  again^  and  made  as  though  nothing 
had  happened.  Suddenly  he  felt  her  thin  aims  about  his  neck, 
'forgive  me  I''  she  said,  weeping,  and  she  hid  her  face  against 
his  shoulder. 

^'Come,  come^  nothing  very  dreadful  has  happened!  The 
silly  old  cup!"  he  said  consolingly,  as  he  stroked  her  head. 
'Tou  couldn't  help  it!'' 

But  at  that  she  broke  down  altogether,  and  it  seemed  as 
though  her  crying  would  destroy  her  meager  body.  'TTes,  I  did 
it  on  purpose!''  she  bellowed.  "And  I  threw  down  the  boots 
on  purpose,  and  yesterday  I  didn't  give  you  the  message  on 
purpose.  I  would  have  liked  to  hurt  you  still  more,  I'm  so 
bad,  bad,  bad !  Why  doesn't  some  one  give  me  a  good  beating? 
If  you'd  only  once  be  properly  angry  with  me  1" 

She  was  quite  beside  herself  and  did  not  know  what  she  was 
saying. 

'*Now  listen  to  me  at  once — ^you've  got  to  be  sensible !"  said 
Pelle  decidedly,  "for  this  sort  of  thing  is  not  amusing.  I  was 
pleased  to  think  I  was  going  to  be  at  home  to-day,  so  as  to  work 
beside  you,  and  then  you  go  and  have  an  attack  just  like  a  fine 
lady!" 

She  overcame  her  weeping  by  a  tremendous  effort,  and  went 
back  to  her  room,  gently  sobbing.  She  returned  at  once  with  a 
cracked  cup  for  the  paste  and  a  small  tin  box  with  a  slit  in  the 
Jid.    This  was  her  money-box. 

"Take  it,"  she  said,  pushing  the  box  onto  his  lap.  "Then 
you  can  buy  yourself  lasts  and  needn't  go  asking  the  small  em- 
ployers for  work.    There's  work  enough  here  in  the  'Ark.' " 

''But,  Marie — thafs  your  rent!"  said  Pelle,  aghast 

"What  does  that  matter?  I  can  easily  get  the  money  to- 
gether again  by  the  first." 

Oh,  she  could  easily  do  that!  Pelle  laughed,  a  bewildered 
laugh.  How  cheerfully  she  threw  her  money  about,  the  money 
that  cost  her  thirty  days  of  painful  thought  and  saving,  in 
order  to  have  it  ready  each  month! 


THE   GREAT  STRUGGLE  121 

''What  do  you  think  Peter  and  Karl  would  say  to  your 
chucking  your  money  about  like  that?  Put  the  box  away  again 
safely — and  be  quick  about  it  1'' 

^Oh^  take  it  I^'  she  cried  persistently^  thrusting  the  box  upon 
him  again.  'TTes — or  111  throw  it  out  of  the  window  !^'  She 
quickly  opened  one  of  the  sashes.    Pelle  stood  up. 

'^t's  true  I  still  owe  you  for  the  last  washing^''  he  said, 
offering  to  put  a  krone  in  tiie  box. 

^A  good  thing  you  reminded  me.^  She  stared  at  him  with 
an  impenetrable  expression  and  ran  back  to  her  room. 

In  there  she  moved  about  singing  in  her  harsh  Yoice.  After 
a  while  she  went  out  to  make  some  purchases  clad  in  a  gray 
shawl^  with  her  house-wife's  basket  on  her  arm.  He  could  fol- 
low her  individual  step^  which  was  light  as  a  child's^  and  yet 
soimded  so  old — ^right  to  the  end  of  the  tunnel.  Then  he  went 
into  the  children's  room  and  pulled  out  the  third  drawer  in  the 
chest  of  drawers.  There  she  always  hid  her  money-box,  wrapped 
up  in  her  linen.  He  stiU  possessed  two  kroner,  which  he  in- 
serted in  the  box. 

He  used  always  to  pay  her  in  this  way.  When  she  counted 
out  her  money  and  found  there  was  too  much,  she  believed  the 
good  God  had  put  the  money  in  her  box,  and  would  come  jubi- 
lantly into  his  room  to  tell  him  about  it.  The  child  believed 
blindly  in  Fortune,  and  accepted  the  money  as  a  sign  of  elec- 
tion; and  for  her  this  money  was  something  quite  different  to 
that  which  she  herself  had  saved. 

About  noon  fehe  came  to  invitfe  him  into  her  room.  '^There's 
fried  herring,  Pelle,  so  you  can't  possibly  say  no,**  she  said  per- 
suasively, "f or^  no  Bornholmer  could !  Then  you  needn't  go 
and  buy  that  stuffy  food  from  the  hawker,  and  throw  away 
five  and  twenty  ore."  She  had  bought  half  a  score  of  the  fish, 
and  had  kept  back  five  for  her  brothers  when  they  came  home. 
''And  there's  coffee  after,"  she  said.  She  had  set  out  every- 
thing delightfully,  with  a  clean  napkin  at  one  end  of  the 
table. 

The  factory  girl's  little  Paul  came  in  and  was  given  a 
mouthful  of  food.  Then  he  ran  out  into  the  gangway  again 
and  tumbled  about  there,  for  the  little  fellow  was  never  a  mo- 
ment still  from  the  moment  his  mother  let  him  out  in  the 


122  PELLE    THE    CONQUEBOB 

morning ;  there  was  so  much  to  make  up  for  after  his  long  im- 
prisonment. From  the  little  idiot  whom  his  mother  had  to  tie 
to  the  stove  because  he  had  water  on  the  brain  and  wanted  to 
throw  himself  out  of  the  window,  he  had  become  a  regular  vag- 
abond. Every  moment  he  would  thrust  his  head  in  at  the  door 
and  look  at  Pelle;  and  he  would  often  come  right  in,  put  his 
hand  on  Pellets  Imee,  and  say,  ^TTou's  my  father!*'  Then  he 
would  rush  off  again.  Marie  helped  him  in  all  his  infantile 
necessities — ^he  always  appealed  to  her! 

After  she  had  washed  up,  she  sat  by  Pelle  with  her  mending, 
chattering  away  concerning  her  household  cares.  "I  shall  soon 
have  to  get  jackets  for  the  boys — ^it*s  awful  what  they  need  now 
they're  grown  up.  I  peep  in  at  the  second-hand  clothes  shop 
every  day.  And  you  must  have  a  new  blouse,  too,  Pelle;  that 
one  will  soon  be  done  for;  and  then  you've  none  to  go  to  the 
wash.  If  you'll  buy  the  stuff,  I'll  soon  make  it  up  for  you — 
I  can  sew !  I  made  my  best  blouse  myself — Hanne  helped  me 
with  it  I    Why,  really,  don't  you  gD  to  see  Hanne  any  longer  ?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know." 

'TEanne  has  grown  so  peculiar.  She  never  comes  down  into 
the  courtyard  now  to  dance  with  us.  She  used  to.  Then  I 
used  to  watch  out  of  the  window,  and  run  down.  It  was  so 
jolly,  playing  with  her.  We  used  to  go  roimd  and  round  her 
and  sing !  TV^e  all  bow  to  Hanne,  we  curtsy  all  to  Hanne,  we 
all  turn  round  before  her!'  And  then  we  bowed  and  curtsied 
and  suddenly  we  all  turned  round.  I  tell  you,  it  watf  jolly  I 
You  ought  to  have  taken  Hanne." 

''But  you  didn't  like  it  when  I  took  Ellen.  Why  should  I 
have  taken  Hanne  ?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  .  .  .  Hanne  ..."  Marie  stopped,  lis- 
tened, and  suddenly  wrenched  the  window  open. 

Down  in  the  "Ark"  a  door  slammed,  and  a  long  hooting 
sound  rose  up  from  below,  sounding  just  like  a  husky  scream 
from  the  crazy  Vinslev's  flute  or  like  the  wind  in  the  long  cor- 
ridors. Like  a  strange,  disconnected  snatch  of  melody,  the 
sound  floated  about  below,  trickling  up  along  the  wooden  walls, 
and  breaking  out  into  the  daylight  with  a  note  of  ecstasy: 
"Hanne's  with  child!  The  Fairy  Princess  is  going  to  be  con- 
fined I" 


THE    GEEAT   STEUGGLE  123 

Marie  went  down  the  stairs  like  a  flash.  The  half-grown 
girls  were  shrieking  and  running  together  in  the  court  below; 
the  women  on  the  galleries  were  murmuring  to  others  above 
and  below.  Not  that  this  was  in  itself  anything  novel;  but  in 
this  case  it  was  Hanne  herself,  the  immaculate,  whom  as  yet  no 
tongue  had  dared  to  besmirch.  And  even  now  they  dared  hardly 
speak  of  it  openly;  it  had  come  as  such  a  shock.  In  a  certain 
sense  they  had  all  entered  into  her  exaltation,  and  with  her  had 
waited  for  the  fairy-tale  to  come  true ;  as  quite  a  child  she  had 
been  elected  to  represent  the  incomprehensible;  and  now  she 
was  merely  going  to  have  a  child !  It  really  was  like  a  miracle 
just  at  first;  it  was  such  a  surprise  to  them  all  I 

Marie  came  back  with  dragging  steps  and  with  an  expres- 
sion of  horror  and  astonishment.  Down  in  the  court  the  grimy- 
nosed  little  brats  were  screeching,  as  they  wheeled  hand  in  hand 
round  the  sewer-grating — ^it  was  splendid  for  dancing  round — 

•*Bro-bro-brme-brld 
Hanne's  doin'  to  bave  a  tidt" 

They  couldnH  speak  plainly  yet. 

And  there  was  "Grete  with  the  baby,^*  the  mad-woman,  tear- 
ing her  cellar-window  open,  leaning  out  of  it  backward,  with 
her  doll  on  her  arm,  and  yelling  up  through  the  well,  so  that  it 
echoed  loud  and  shrill:  "The  Fairy  Princess  has  got  a  child, 
and  Pelle's  its  father  V 

Pelle  bent  over  his  work  in  silence.  Fortunately  he  was  not 
the  king's  soq  in  disguise  in  this  case  I  But  he  wasn't  going  to 
wrangle  with  women. 

Hanne's  mother  came  storming  out  onto  her  gallery. 
^^Thafs  a  shameless  lie !"  she  cried.  'Telle's  name  ain't  going 
to  be  dragged  into  this — ^the  other  may  be  who  he  likes  1" 

Overhead  the  hearse-driver  came  staggering  out  onto  his 
gallery.  'T?he  princess  there  has  run  a  beam  into  her  body," 
he  rumbled,  in  his  good-natured  bass.  ''What  a  pity  I'm  not  a 
midwife  f    They've  got  hold  of  the  wrong  end  of  it  1" 

"Clear  off  into  your  hole  and  hold  your  tongue,  you  body- 
snatcher  f  cried  Madam  Johnsen,  spitting  with  rage.  "TouVe 
got  to  stick  your  brandy-nose  into  everything !" 

He  stood  there,  half  drunk,  leaning  over  the  rail,  babblings 


124  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

teasing^  without  returning  Madam  Johnsen^s  vituperation.  But 
then  little  Marie  flung  up  a  window  and  came  to  her  assistance, 
and  up  from  her  platform  Ferdinand^s  mother  emerged.  ^'How 
many  bams  did  you  buy  last  montti?  Fetch  out  your  bear 
hams,  then,  and  show  us  them !  He  kills  a  bear  fof  every  corpse, 
the  dnmkard  I''  From  all  sides  they  fell  upon  him.  He  could 
do  nothing  against  them,  and  contented  himself  with  opening 
his  eyes  and  his  mouth  and  giving  vent  to  a  ^^a-a-a !''  Then 
his  red-haired  wife  came  out  and  hailed  him  in. 


Fbom  the  moment  when  the  gray  morning  broke  there  was 
audible  a  peculiar  note  in  the  buzzing  of  the  ^'Ark/'  a  hoarse 
excitement^  which  thrust  all  care  aside.  Down  the  long  corri- 
dors there  was  a  sound  of  weeping  and  scrubbing;  while  the 
galleries  and  the  dark  wooden  stair-cases  were  sluiced  with 
water.  'TLook  out  there  1'*  called  somebody  every  moment  from 
somewhere,  and  then  it  was  a  question  of  escaping  the  down- 
wardnstreaming  flood.  During  the  whole  morning  the  water 
poured  from  one  gallery  to  another,  as  over  a  mill-race. 

But  now  the  ''Ark''  stood  freezing  in  its  own  cleanliness, 
with  an  expression  that  seemed  to  say  the  old  warren  didn't 
know  itself.  Here  and. there  a  curtain  or  a  bit  of  furniture 
had  disappeared  from  a  window — ^it  had  found  its  way  to  the 
pawn  shop  in  honor  of  the  day.  What  was  lacking  in  that  way 
was  made  up  for  by  the  expectation  and  festive  delight  on  the 
faces  of  the  inmates. 

Little  fir-trees  peeped  out  of  the  cellar  entries  in  the  City 
Ward,  and  in  the  market-place  they  stood  like  a  whole  forest 
along  the  wall  of  the  prison.  In  the  windows  of  the  basement- 
shops  hung  hearts  and  colored  candles,  and  the  grocer  at  the 
comer  had  a  great  Christmas  goblin  in  his  window — ^it  was 
made  of  red  and  gray  wool-work  and  had  a  whole  caf  s  skin 
for  its  beard. 

On  the  stairs  of  the  ''Ark''  the  children  lay  about  cleaning 
knives  and  forks  with  sand  sprinkled  on  the  steps. 

Pelle  sat  over  his  work  and  listened  in  secret.  His  appear- 
ance usually  had  a  quieting  effect  on  these  crazy  outbursts  of 
the  "Ark,"  but  he  did  not  want  to  mix  himself  up  with  this 
afEair.  And  he  had  never  even  dreamed  that  Hanne's  mother 
could  be  like  this  t    She  was  like  a  fury,  turning  her  head,  quick 

126 


126  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOR 

as  lightning,  now  to  one  side,  now  to  the  other,  and  listening  to 
every  sound,  ready  to  break  out  again ! 

Ah,  she  was  protecting  her  child  now  that  it  was  too  late  I 
She  was  like  a  spitting  cat. 

•The  youngest  of  all  the  lordlln's," 

sang  the  children  down  in  the  court.  That  was  Hanne's  song. 
Madam  Johnsen  stood  there  as  though  she  would  like  to  swoop 
down  on  their  heads.  Suddenly  she  flung  her  apron  over  her 
face  and  ran  indoors,  sobbing. 

*'Ah!*'  they  said,  and  they  slapped  their  bellies  every  time 
an  odor  of  something  cooking  screamed  out  into  the  court. 
Every  few  minutes  they  had  to  run  out  and  buy  five  or  ten  ore 
worth  of  something  or  other;  there  was  no  end  to  the  things 
that  were  needed  in  preparation  for  Christmas  Eve.  ^TV^e're 
having  lovely  red  beetroot!*'  said  one  little  child,  singing, 
making  a  song  of  it — *TVe*re  having  lovely  red  beetroot,  aha, 
aha,  aha!'*  And  they  swayed  their  little  bodies  to  and  fro  as 
they  scoured. 

^Trederikl**  a  sharp  voice  cried  from  one  of  the  corridors. 
"Run  and  get  a  score  of  firewood  and  a  white  roll — a  ten-ore 
one.  But  look  out  the  grocer  coimts  the  score  properly  and 
don't  pick  out  the  cnmib !" 

Madam  Olsen  with  the  warm  wall  was  frying  pork.  She 
couldn't  pull  her  range  out  onto  the  gallery,  but  she  did  let 
the  pork  bum  so  that  the  whole  courtyard  was  filled  with 
bluish  smoke.'  "Madam  Olsen !  Your  pork  is  burning !"  cried 
a  dozen  women  at  once. 

"Thafs  because  the  frying-pan's  too  small!"  replied  Prau 
Olsen,  thrusting  her  red  head  out  through  the  balusters. 
"Whafs  a  poor  devil  to  do  when  her  frying-pan's  too  small?" 
And  Madam  Olsen's  frying-pan  was  the  biggest  in  the  whole 
"Ark"  1 

Shortly  before  the  twilight  fell  Pelle  came  home  from  the 
workshop.  He  saw  the  streets  and  the  people  with  strange 
eyes  that  diffused  a  radiance  over  all  things ;  it  was  the  Christ- 
mas spirit  in  his  heart.  But  why?  he  asked  himself  involun- 
tarily. Nothing  in  particular  was  in  store  for  him.  To-day 
he  would  have  to  work  longer  than  usual,  and  he  would  not  be 


THE   GBEAT   STBUGGLE  127 

able  to  spend  the  evening  with  Ellen,  for  she  had  to  be  busy 
in  her  kitchen,  making  things  jolly  for  others.  Why,  then,  did 
this  feeling  possess  him?  It  was  not  a  memory;  so  far  as  he 
could  look  back  he  had  never  taken  part  in  a  genuine  cheerful 
Christmas  Eve,  but  had  been  forced  to  content  himself  with 
the  current  reports  of  such  festivities.  And  all  the  other  poor 
folks  whom  he  met  were  in  the  same  mood  as  he  himself.  The 
hard  questioning  look  had  gone  from  their  faces;  they  were 
smiling  to  themselves  as  they  went.  To-day  there  was  nothing 
of  that  wan,  heavy  depression  which  commonly  broods  over 
the  lower  classes  like  the  forboding  of  disaster;  they  could  not 
have  looked  more  cheerful  had  all  their  hopes  been  fulfilled! 
A  woman  with  a  feather-bed  in  her  arms  passed  him  and  dis- 
appeared into  the  pawn-shop;  and  she  looked  extremely  well 
pleased.  Were  they  really  so  cheerful  just  because  they  were 
going  to  have  a  bit  of  a  feast,  while  to  do  so  they  were  making 
a  succession  of  lean  days  yet  leaner?  No,  they  were  going  to 
keep  festival  because  the  Christmas  spirit  prevailed  in  their 
hearts,  because  they  must  keep  holiday,  however  dearly  it  might 
cost  them! 

It  was  on  this  night  to  be  sure  that  Christ  was  bom.  Were 
the  people  so  kind  and  cheerful  on  that  accoimt? 

Pelle  still  knew  by  heart  most  of  the  Bible  texts  of  his 
school-days.  They  had  remained  stowed  away  somewhere  in 
his  mind,  vidthout  burdening  him  or  taking  up  any  room,  and 
now  and  again  they  reappeared  and  helped  to  build  up  his 
knowledge  of  mankind.  But  of  Christ  Himself  he  had  formed 
his  own  private  picture,  from  the  day  when  as  a  boy  he  first 
stumbled  upon  the  command  given  to  the  rich :  to  seU  all  that 
they  had  and  to  give  to  the  starving.  But  they  took  precious 
gooii  care  not  to  do  so;  they  took  the  great  friend  of  the  poor 
man  and  hanged  him  on  high !  He  achieved  no  more  than  this, 
tiiat  He  became  a  promise  to  the  poor;  but  perhaps  it  was  this 
promise  that,  after  two  thousand  years,  they  were  now  so 
solemnly  celebrating! 

They  had  so  long  been  silent,  holding  themselves  in  readi- 
ness, like  the  wise  virgins  in  the  Bible,  and  now  at  last  it  was 
coming!  Now  at  last  they  were  beginning  to  proclaim  the 
great  Gospel  of  the  Poor — ^it  was  a  goodly  motive  for  all  this 


128  PELLB  THE  CONQUEBOB 

Christmas  joy !  Why  did  they  not  assemble  the  multitudes  on 
the  night  of  Christ's  hirtb,  and  announce  the  Qospel  to  them? 
Then  they  would  all  understand  the  Cause  and  would  join 
it  then  and  there!  There  was  a  whirl  of  new  living  thoughts 
in  Pellets  head.  He  had  not  hitherto  known  that  that  in  which 
be  was  participating  was  so  great  a  thing.  He  felt  that  he  was 
serving  the  Highest 

He  stood  a  while  in  the  market-place,  silentiy  considering 
the  Christmas-trees — they  led  his  thoughts  back  to  the  pasture 
on  which  he  had  herded  the  cows,  and  the  little  wood  of  firs. 
It  pleased  him  to  buy  a  tree,  and  to  take  the  children  by  sur- 
prise; the  previous  evening  they  had  sat  together  cutting  out 
Christmas-tree  decorations,  and  Karl  had  fastened  four  fir-tree 
boughs  together  to  make  a  Christmas-tree. 

At  the  grocer's  he  bought  some  sweets  and  Christmas  can- 
dles. The  grocer  was  going  about  on  tip-toe  in  honor  of  the 
day,  and  was  serving  the  dirty  little  urchins  with  ceremonious 
bows.  He  was  "throwing  things  in,'*  and  had  quite  forgotten 
his  customary,  'TEere,  you,  don't  forget  that  you  still  owe  for 
two  lots  of  tea  and  a  quarter  of  cofFee  I"  But  he  was  cheating 
with  the  scales  as  usual. 

Marie  was  going  about  with  rolled-up  sleeves,  and  was  very 
busy.  But  she  dropped  her  work  and  came  running  when  she 
saw  the  tree.  'T[t  won't  stand  here  yet,  Pelle,"  she  cried,  "it 
will  have  to  be  cut  shorter.  It  will  have  to  be  cut  still  shorter 
even  now !  Oh,  how  pretty  it  is  I  No,  at  the  end  there — at  the 
end!  We  had  a  Christmas-tree  at  home;  father  went  out  him- 
self and  cut  it  down  on  the  cliffs;  and  we  children  went  with 
him.  But  this  one  is  much  finer  I"  Then  she  ran  out  into  the 
gangway,  in  order  to  tell  the  news,  but  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  her  tiiat  the  boys  had  not  come  home  yet,  so  she  rushed  in  to 
PeUe  once  more. 

PeUe  sat  down  to  his  work.  From  time  to  time  he  lifted 
his  head  and  looked  out.  The  seamstress,  who  had  just  moved 
into  Pipman's  old  den,  and  who  was  working  away  at  her 
snoring  machine,  looked  longingly  at  him.  Of  course  she  must 
be  lonely;  perhaps  there  was  nowhere  where  she  could  spend 
the  evening. 

Old  Madam  Frandsen  came  out  on  her  platform  and 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  129 

shuffled  down  the  steep  stairs  in  her  cloth  slippers.  The  rope 
slipped  through  her  trembling  hands.  She  had  a  little  basket 
on  her  arm  and  a  purse  in  her  hand — she  too  looked  so  lonely^ 
the  poor  old  worm!  She  had  now  heard  nothing  of  her  son 
for  three  months.  Madam  Olsen  called  out  to  her  and  invited 
her  in,  but  the  old  woman  shook  her  head.  On  the  way  back 
she  looked  in  on  Pelle. 

'*He's  coming  this  evening/'  she  whispered  delightedly. 
*n\e  been  buying  brandy  and  beefsteak  for  him,  because  he's 
coming  this  evening!'* 

'^ell,  don't  be  disappointed,  Madam  Frandsen,"  said 
Pelle,  **but  he  daren't  venture  here  any  more.  Gome  over  to 
us  instead  and  keep  Christmas  with  us." 

She  nodded  confidently.  'TBiell  come  to-night.  On  Christ- 
mas Eve  he  has  always  slept  in  mother's  bed,  ever  since  he 
could  crawl,  and  he  can't  do  without  it,  not  if  I  know  my 
Ferdinand!"  She  had  already  made  up  a  bed  for  herself  on 
the  chairs,  so  certain  was  she. 

The  police  evidently  thought  as  she  did,  for  down  in  the 
court  strange  footsteps  were  heard.  It  was  just  about  twilight, 
when  so  many  were  coming  and  going  xmremarked.  But  at 
these  steps  a  female  head  popped  back  over  the  balustrade,  a 
sharp  cry  was  heard,  and  at  the  same  moment  every  gallery  was 
filled  with  women  and  children.  They  hung  over  the  rails  and 
made  an  ear-splitting  din,  so  that  the  whole  deep,  narrow  shaft 
was  filled  with  an  unendurable  uproar.  It  sounded  as  though 
a  hurricane  came  raging  down  through  the  shaft,  sweeping 
with  it  a  hailstorm  of  roofing-slates.  The  policeman  leaped  back 
into  the  tunnel-entry,  stupefied.  He  stood  there  a  moment  re- 
covering himself  before  he  withdrew.  Upstairs,  in  the  gal- 
leries, they  leaned  on  the  rails  and  recovered  their  breath,  ex- 
hausted by  the  terrific  eruption;  and  then  fell  to  chattering 
like  a  flock  of  small  birds  that  have  been  chasing  a  flying 
hawk. 

'^erry  Christmas!"  was  now  shouted  from  gallery  to  gal- 
lery. 'Thanks,  the  same  to  you!"  And  the  children  shouted 
to  one  another,  ''A  jolly  feast  and  all  the  best!"  **A  dainty 
feast  for  man  and  beast !" 

Christmas  Eve  was  here !    The  men  came  shuffling  home  at 


130  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

a  heavy  trot^  and  the  factory-girls  came  rushing  in.  Here  and 
there  a  feeble  wail  filtered  out  of  one  of  the  long  corridors,  so 
that  the  milk-fiUed  breast  ached.  Children  incessantly  ran  in 
and  out,  fetching  the  last  ingredients  of  the  feast.  Down  by 
the  exit  into  the  street  they  had  to  push  two  tramps,  who  stood 
there  shuddering  in  the  cold.  They  were  suspicious-looking 
people.  'TPhere  are  two  men  down  there,  but  they  aren/t  gen- 
uine,'* said  KarL  'TPhey  look  as  if  they  came  out  of  a  music- 
hall.'' 

'fRun  over  to  old  Madam  Prandsen  and  tell  her  that,"  said 
Pelle.  But  her  only  answer  was,  "God  be  thanked,  then  they 
haven't  caught  him  yet!" 

Over  at  Olsen's  their  daughter  Elvira  had  come  home.  The 
blind  was  not  drawn,  and  she  was  standing  at  the  window  with 
her  huge  hat  with  flowers  in  it,  allowing  herself  to  be  admired. 
Marie  came  running  in.  ''Have  you  seen  how  fine  she  is, 
Pelle?"  she  said,  quite  stupefied.  *'And  she  gets  all  that  for 
nothing  from  the  gentlemen,  just  because  they  think  she's  so 
pretty.    But  at  night  she  paints  her  naked  back  1" 

The  children  were  running  about  in  the  gangway,  waiting 
until  Pelle  should  have  finished.  They  would  not  keep 
Christmas  without  him.  But  now  he,  too,  had  finished 
work;  he  pulled  on  a  jacket,  wrapped  up  his  work,  and 
ran  off. 

Out  on  the  platform  he  stood  still  for  a  moment.  He  could 
see  the  light  of  the  city  glimmering  in  the  deep,  star-filled  sky. 
The  night  was  so  solemnly  beautiful.  Below  him  the  galleries 
were  forsaken;  they  were  creaking  in  the  frost.  All  the  doors 
were  closed  to  keep  the  cold  out  and  the  joy  in.  'T)own,  down 
from  the  green  fir-trees !" — it  sounded  from  every  corner.  The 
light  shone  through  the  window  and  in  all  directions  through 
iiie  woodwork.  Suddenly  there  was  a  dull  booming  sound  on  the 
stairs — ^it  was  the  hearse-driver  staggering  home  with  a  ham 
under  either  arm.  Then  all  grew  quiet — quiet  as  it  never  was 
at  other  times  in  the  "Ark,"  where  night  or  day  some  one  was 
always  complaining.  A  child  came  out  and  lifted  a  pair  of 
questioning  eyes,  in  order  to  look  at  the  Star  of  Bethlehem! 
There  was  a  h'ght  at  Madam  Prandsen's.  She  had  hung  a 
white  sheet  over  the  window  to-day,  and  had  drawn  it  tight; 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  131 

the  lamp  stood  close  to  the  window^  so  that  any  one  moying 
within  would  cast  no  shadow  across  it. 

The  poor  old  worm!  thought  Pelle,  as  he  ran  past;  she 
might  have  spared  herself  the  trouble  I  When  he  had  delivered 
his  work  he  hurried  over  to  Holberg  Street,  in  order  to  wish 
EUen  a  happy  Christmas. 

The  table  was  finely  decked  out  in  his  room  when  he  got 
home;  there  was  pork  chops,  rice  boiled  in  milk,  and  Christ- 
mas beer.  Marie  was  glowing  with  pride  over  her  performance; 
she  sat  helping  the  others,  but  she  herself  took  nothing. 

'TTou  ought  to  cook  a  dinner  as  good  as  this  every  day, 
lass  !*'  said  Earl,  as  he  set  to.  *'Gk)d  knows,  you  might  well  get 
a  situation  in  the  King's  kitchen.'' 

'TVhy  don't  you  eat  any  of  this  nice  food  ?"  said  Telle. 

"Oh,  no,  I  can't,"  she  replied,  touching  .her  cheeks;  her  eyes 
beamed  upon  him. 

They  laughed  and  chattered  and  clinked  their  glasses  to- 
gether. Karl  came  out  with  the  latest  puns  and  the  newest 
street-songs ;  so  he  had  gained  something  by  his  scouring  of  the 
city  streets.  Peter  sat  there  looking  impenetrably  now  at  one, 
now  at  another;  he  never  laughed,  but  from  time  to  time  he 
made  a  dry  remark  by  which  one  knew  that  he  was  amusing 
himself.  Now  and  again  they  looked  over  at  old  Madam  Frand- 
sen's  window — it  was  a  pity  that  she  wouldn't  be  .with  them. 

Five  candles  were  now  burning  over  there — ^they  were  ap- 
parently fixed  on  a  little  Christmas  tree  which  stood  in  a  flower- 
pot. They  twinkled  like  distant  stars  through  the  white  cur- 
tain, and  Madam  Frandsen's  voice  sounded  cracked  and  thin: 
''O  thou  joyful,  0  thou  holy,  mercy-bringing  Christmas-tide!" 
Pelle  opened  his  window  and  listened;  he  wondered  that  the 
old  woman  should  be  so  cheerful. 

Suddenly  a  warning  voice  sounded  from  below:  ^'Madam 
Frandsen,  there  are  visitors  coming!" 

Doors  and  windows  flew  open  on  the  galleries  round  about. 
People  tumbled  out  of  doorways,  their  food  in  their  hands,  and 
leaned  over  the  railings.  ''Who  dares  to  disturb  our  Christmas 
rejoicings?"  cried  a  deep,  threatening  voice. 

'TThe  officers  of  the  law!"  the  reply  came  out  of  the  dark- 
ness.   '*Keep  quiet,  all  of  you — ^in  the  name  of  the  law  1" 


132  PELLB  THE   CONQUEEOR 

Over  on  Madam  Frandsen's  side  two  figures  became  visible, 
noiselessly  running  up  on  all  fours.  Upstairs  nothing  was  hap- 
pening; apparently  they  had  lost  their  heads.  'Terdinand, 
Ferdinand  1"  shrined  a  girl's  voice  wildly;  '^they're  coming 
nowP 

At  the  same  moment  the  door  flew  open,  and  with  a  leap 
Ferdinand  stood  on  the  platform.  He  flung  a  chair  down  at  his 
pursuers,  and  violently  swayed  the  hand-rope,  in  order  to  sweep 
them  off  the  steps.  Then  he  seized  the  gutter  and  swung  himself 
up  onto  the  roof.  ''Good-bye,  mother  1*'  he  cried  from  above, 
and  his  leap  resounded  in  the  darkness.  ''Good-bye,  mother, 
and  a  merry  Christmas  I'^  A  howl  like  that  of  a  wounded  beast 
flung  the  alarm  far  out  into  the  night,  and  they  heard  the 
stumbling  pursuit  of  the  policemen  over  the  roofs.  And  then 
all  was  stilL 

They  returned  unsuccessfuL  "Well,  then  you  haven't  got 
him  !**  cried  Olsen,  leaning  out  of  his  window  down  below. 

'TTo;  d'you  think  we  are  going  to  break  our  necks  for  the 
like  of  himP'  retorted  the  policemen,  as  they  scrambled  down. 
"Any  one  going  to  stand  a  glass  of  Christmas  beer?"  As  no 
response  followed,  they  departed. 

Old  Madam  Frandsen  went  into  her  room  and  locked  up; 
she  was  tired  and  worried  and  wanted  to  go  to  bed.  But  after 
a  time  she  came  shuf9ing  down  the  long  gangway.  Telle,''  she 
whispered,  "he's  in  bed  in  my  room  1  While  they  were  scram- 
bling about  on  the  roofs  he  slipped  quietly  back  over  the  gar- 
rets and  got  into  my  bed !  Good  God,  he  hasn't  slept  in  a  bed 
for  four  months!  He's  snoring  already!"  And  she  slipped 
out  again. 

Yes,  that  was  an  annoying  interruption!  No  one  felt  in- 
clined to  begin  all  over  again  excepting  Karl,  and  Marie  did 
not  count  him,  as  he  was  always  hungry.  So  she  cleared  away, 
gossiping  as  she  went  in  and  out;  she  did  not  like  to  see  Pelle 
80  serious. 

^9ut  the  secret !"  she  cried  of  a  sudden,  quite  startled.  The 
boys  ran  in  to  her;  then  they  came  back,  close  together,  with 
Marie  behind  than,  carrying  sometiiing  und^r  her  apron.  The 
two  boys  flung  themselves  upon  Pelle  and  closed  his  eyes,  while 
Marie  inserted  'something  in  his  mouth.     "Guess  now!"  she 


THE   GBEAT  STBUGGLE  133 

cried,  ^gness  now  ?*  It  was  a  porcelain  pipe  with  a  green  silken 
tasseL  On  the  bowl  of  the  pipe,  which  was  EUen's  Christmas 
gift,  was  a  representation  of  a  ten-kroner  note.  The  children 
had  inserted  a  screw  of  tobacco.  **Now  yonTl  be  able  to  smoke 
properly,*'  said  Marie,  pursing  her  lips  together  ronnd  the 
mouthpiece;  ''yon  are  so  clever  in  everything  else.** 

The  children  had  invited  gnests  for  the  Christmas-tree; 
the  seamstress,  the  old  night-watchman  from  the  courtyard,  the 
factory-hand  with  her  little  boy;  all  those  who  were  sitting  at 
.home  and  keeping  Christmas  all  alone.  They  didn't  know 
themselves,  there  were  so  many  of  them!  Hanne  and  her 
mother  were  invited  too,  but  they  had  gone  to  bed  early — ^they 
were  not  inclined  for  sociability.  One  after  another  they  were 
pulled  into  the  room,  and  they  came  with  cheerful  faces.  Marie 
turned  the  lamp  out  and  went  in  to  light  .up  the  Christmas  tree. 

They  sat  in  silence  and  expectation.  The  light  from  the 
stove  flickered  cheerfully  to  and  fro  in  the  room,  lighting  up  a 
face  with  closed  eyelids  and  eager  features,  and  d]ring  away 
with  a  little  crash.  The  factory  hand's  little  boy  was  the  only 
one  to  chatter ;  he  had  sought  a  refuge  on  Pelle's  knee  and  felt 
quite  safe  in  the  darkness;  his  childish  voice  sounded  strangely 
bright  in  the  firelight.  'Taul  must  be  quite  good  and  quiet," 
repeated  .the  mother  admonishingly. 

''Mus'n't  Paul  'peak?"  asked  the  child,  feeling  for  Pelle's 
face. 

^TTes,  to-night  Paul  can  do  just  as  he  likes,"  replied  Pelle. 
Then  the  youngster  chattered  on  and  kicked  out  at  the  darkness 
with  his  little  legs. 

'ITow  you  can  come !"  cried  Marie,  and  she  opened  the  door 
leading  to  the  gangway.  In  the  children's  room  everything  had 
been  cleared  away.  The  Christmas-tree  stood  in  the  middle, 
on  the  floor,  and  was  blazing  with  light.  And  how  splendid  it 
was — ^and  how  tall  I  Now  they  could  have  a  proper  good  look  I 
The  lights  were  reflected  in  their  eyes,  and  in  the  window-panes, 
and  in  the  old  mahogany-framed  mirror,  and  the  glass  of  the 
cheap  pictures,  so  tLat  they  seemed  suddenly  to  be  moving  about 
in  the  midst  of  myriads  of  stars,  and  forgot  all  their  miseries. 
It  was  as  though  they  had  escaped  from  all  their  griefs  and 
cares,  and  had  entered  straightway  into  glory,  and  all  of  a  sud- 


134  PELLB   THE    CONQUEROR 

den  a  pure^  clear  voice  arose^  tremulous  with  embarrassment, 
and  the  voice  sang: 

"O  little  imgel,  make  us  glad ! 
Down  from  high  Heaven's  halls 
Through  sui^hine  flown,  in  splendor  clad, 
Earth's  shadow  on  thee  falls!" 

It  sounded  like  a  greeting  from  the  clouds.  They  closed 
their  eyes  and  wandered,  hand  in  hand,  about  the  tree.  Then 
the  seamstress  fell  silent,  blushing.  ^TTou  aren^t  singing  with 
me  I'^  she  cried. 

''Well  sing  the  Yule  Song — ^we  all  know  that,'*  said  Pelle. 

'T)own,  down  from  the  high  green  tree  !** — It  was  Karl  who 
struck  up.  And  they  just  did  sing  that !  It  fitted  in  so  admir- 
ably— even  the  name  of  Peter  fitted  in !  And  it  was  great  fun, 
too,  when  i^l  the  presents  cropped  up  in  the  song ;  every  single 
person  was  remembered !  Only  the  lines  about  the  purse,  at  the 
end,  were  all  too  truel  There  wasn't  much  more  to  be  said 
for  that  song  I  But  suddenly  the  boys  set  the  ringnlance  going ; 
they  stamped  like  a  couple  of  soldiers,  and  'then  they  all  went 
whirling  round  in  frantic  movement — ^a  real  witches'  dance  1 

"Hey  dicker  dick, 
My  man  fell  smack ; 
It  was  on  Christmas  Eve! 
I  took  a  stick 
And  broke  it  on  his  back, 
It  was  on  Christmas  Eve!" 

How  hot  all  the  candles  made  it,  and  how  it  all  went  to  one's 
head!    They  had  to  open  the  door  on  to  the  gangway. 

And  there  outside  stood  the  inmates  of  the  garrets,  listening 
and  craning  their  necks.  "Come  inside,"  cried  the  boys. 
'^There's  room  enough  if  we  make  two  rings!"  So  once  again 
they  moved  round  the  tree,  singing  Christmas  carols.  Every 
time  there  was  a  pause  somebody  struck  up  a  new  carol,  that 
had  to  be  sung  through.  The  doors  opposite  were,  open  too,  the 
old  rag-picker  sat  at  the  head  of  his  tshle  singing  on  his  own 
account.  He  had  a  loaf  of  black  bread  and  a  plate  of  bacon  in 
front  of  him,  and  after  every  carol  he  took  a  mouthful.  In 
the  other  doorway  sat  three  coal-porters  playing  ''sixty-six"  for 
beer  and  brandy.    They  sat  facing  toward  the  Christmas-tree, 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  186 

and  ihey  joined  in  the  singing  as  they  played;  but  from  time 
to  time  they  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  a  verse  in  order  to  say 
something  or  to  cry  'Trumped  1''  Now  they  suddenly  threw 
down  their  cards  and  came  into  the  room,  '^e  don't  want  to 
sit  here  idle  and  look  on  while  others  are  working/'  they  said, 
and  they  joined  the  circle. 

Finally  they  had  all  had  enough  of  circling  round  the  tree 
and  singing.  So  chairs  and  stools  were  brought  in  from  the 
other  rooms;  they  had  to  squeeze  close  together,  right  under 
the  sloping  roof,  and  some  sat  up  on  the  window-sill.  There 
was  a  clear  circle  left  roimd  the  Christmas-tree.  And  there 
they  sat  gossiping,  crouching  in  all  sorts  of  distorted  postures, 
as  though  that  was  the  only  way  in  which  their  bodies  could 
really  find  repose,  their  arms  hanging  loosely  between  their 
knees.  But  their  faces  were  still  eager  and  excited;  and  the 
smoke  from  the  candles  and  the  crackling  fir-boughs  of  the  tree 
veiled  them  in  a  bluish  cloud,  through  which  they  loomed  as 
round  as  so  many  moons.  The  burning  turpentine  gave  the 
smoke  a  mysterious,  aUuring  fragrance,  and  the  devout  and 
attentive  faces  were  like  so  many  murmuring  spirits,  hovering 
in  the  clouds,  each  above  its  outworn  body. 

PeUe  sat  there  considering  them  till  his  heart  bled  for  them 
— ^that  was  his  Christmas  devotion.  Poor  storm-beaten  birds, 
what  was  this  splendid  experience  which  outweighed  all  their 
privations?  Only  a  little  light  1  And  they  looked  as  though 
they  could  fall  down  before  it  and  give  up  their  lives  1  He 
knew  the  life's  story  of  each  one  of  them  better  than  they 
knees.  But  their  faces  were  still  eager  and  excited;  and  the 
themselves;  when  they  approached  the  light  they  always  burned 
themselves  in  it,  like  the  moths,  they  were  so  chilled  I 

''All  the  same,  that's  a  queer  invention,  when  one  thinks 
about  it,"  said  one  of  the  dockers,  nodding  toward  the  Christmas- 
tree.  *^ut  if  s  fine.  Qod  knows  what  it  really  is  supposed 
to  meanl" 

'?t  means  that  now  the  year  is  returning  toward  the  light 
again/'  said  the  old  night-watchman. 

*^o;  it  stands  for  the  joy  of  the  shepherds  over  the  birth  of 
Christ/'  said  the  rag-picker,  stepping  into  the  doorway. 

**The  shepherds  were  poor  folks,  like  ourselves,  who  lived 


136  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOB 

in  the  darknees.  That's  why  they  rejoiced  so  over  Him,  because 
He  came  with  the  lighf 

^^eVL,  it  don't  seem  to  me  weVe  been  granted  such  a  terrible 
deal  of  light!  Oh,  yes,  the  Christmas-tree  here,  thafs  splendid. 
Lord  knows  it  is,  and  we  should  all  of  us  like  to  thank  the  chil- 
dren for  it— but  one  can't  have  trees  like  that  to  set  light  to 
every  day ;  and  as  for  the  sun — ^well,  you  see,  the  rich  folks  have 
got  a  monopoly  of  that  1" 

^TTes,  you  are  right  there,  Jacob,"  said  Pelle,  who  was  mov- 
ing about  round  the  tree,  taking  down  the  hearts  and  packages 
for  the  children,  who  distributed  the  sweets.  'TTou  are  all  three 
of  you  right — curiously  enough.  The  Christmas-tree  is  to  re- 
mind us  of  Christ's  birth,  and  also  that  the  year  is  returning 
toward  the  sun — but  thaf  s  all  the  same  thing.  And  then  if  s 
to  remind  us,  too,  that  we  too  ought  to  have  a  share  in  things; 
Christ  was  bom  especially  to  remind  the  poor  of  their  rights  I 
Yes,  that  is  so!  For  the  Lord  God  isn't  one  to  give  long- 
winded  directions  as  to  how  one  should  go  ahead;  He  sends  the 
sun  rolling  round  the  earth  every  day,  and  each  of  us  must  look 
out  for  himself,  and  see  how  best  he  himself  can  get  into  the 
sunshine.  If s  just  like  the  wife  of  a  public-house  keeper  I  re- 
member at  home,  who  used  to  tell  travellers,  *What  would  you 
like  to  eat?  You  can  have  ducks  or  pork  chops  or  sweets — 
anything  you've  brought  with  you !' " 

''That  was  a  devilish  funny  statement!"  said  his  hearers, 
laughing. 

''Yes,  if  s  easy  enough  to  invite  one  to  all  sorts  of  fine  things 
when  all  the  time  one  has  to  bring  them  along  one's  self  I  You 
ought  to  have  be^  a  preacher." 

"He'd  &r  better  be  the  Devil's  advocate!"  said  the  old 
lag-picker.  "For  there's  not  much  Christianity  in  what  he 
says!" 

"But  you  yourself  said  that  Christ  came  bringing  light  for 
the  poor,"  said  Pelle;  "and  He  Himself  said  as  much,  quite 
plainly;  what  He  wanted  was  to  make  the  blind  to  see  and  the 
dead  to  walk,  and  to  restore  consideration  to  the  despised  and 
rejected.    Also,  fie  wanted  men  to  have  faith !" 

"The  blind  shall  see,  the  lame  shall  walk,  the  leper  shall  be 
clean,  the  deaf  shall  hear,  and  the  dead  shall  arise,  and  the 


THE   GBEAT  STBUGGLE  137 


Word  shall  be  preached  to  the  poor/'  said  the  rag-picker,  cor- 
recting Pelle.    ^TTou  are  distorting  the  Scriptures,  Pelle.'' 

''But  I  don't  believe  He  meant  only  individual  cripples — ^no, 
He  meant  all  of  us  in  our  misery,  and  all  the  temptations  that 
lie  in  wait  for  us.  Thafs  how  Preacher  Sort  conceived  it,  and 
he  was  a  godly,  upright  man.  He  believed  the  millenniuTn 
would  come  for  the  poor,  and  that  Christ  was  already  on  the 
earth  making  ready  for  its  coming.'' 

The  women  sat  quite  bemused,  listening  with  open  mouths; 
they  dared  scarcely  breathe.  Paul  was  asleep  on  his  mother's 
lap. 

''Can  He  really  have  thought  about  us  poor  vermin,  and  so 
long  beforehand  ?"  cried  the  men,  looking  from  one  to  another* 
Then  why  haven't  we  long  ago  got  a  bit  more  forward  than 
this?" 

"Yes,  I  too  don't  understand  that,''  said  Pelle,  hesitating. 
Terhaps  we  ourselves  have  got  to  work  our  way  in  the  right 
direction — and  that  takes  time." 

"Yes,  but — ^if  He  would  only  give  us  proper  conditions  of 
life.  But  if  we  have  to  win  them  for  ourselves  we  don't  need 
any  Christ  for  thatl" 

This  was  something  that  PeUe  could  not  explain  even  to 
himself,  although  he  felt  it  within  him  as  a  living  conviction. 
'A  man  must  win  what  was  due  to  him  himself — ^that  was  clear 
as  the  day,  and  he  couldn't  understand  how  they  could  be  blind 
to  the  fact;  but  why  he  must  do  so  he  couldn't — ^however  he 
racked  his  brains-— explain  to  another  person.  'HSut  I  can  tell 
you  a  story,"  he  said. 

"But  a  proper  exciting  story !"  cried  Ejurl,  who  was  feeling 
bored.  "Oh,  if  only  Vinslev  were  here — ^he  has  such  droU 
ideas  I" 

"Be  quiet,  boy!"  said  Marie  crossly.  Telle  makes  proper 
speeches — ^before  whole  meetings,"  she  said,  nodding  solemnly 
to  the  others.    "What  is  the  story  called  ?" 

"Howling  Peter." 

"Oh,  ifs  a  story  with  Peter  in  it— then  ifs  a  ftdry-tale! 
What  is  it  about?" 

'Toull  know  that  when  you  hear  it,  my  child,"  said  the  old 
night-watchman. 


138  ^  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOE 

'TTes,  but  then  one  can't  enjoy  it  when  it  comes  out  right. 
Ign't  it  a  story  about  a  boy  who  goes  out  into  the  world?" 

'The  story  is  abouf — ^Pelle  bethought  himself  a  moment; 
"the  story  is  about  the  birth  of  Christ,"  he  said  quickly,  and 
then  bludied  a  deep  red  at  his  own  audacity.  But  the  others 
looked  disappointed,  and  settled  themselves  decently  and  stared 
at  the  floor,  as  though  they  had  been  in  church. 

And  then  Pelle  told  them  the  story  of  Howling  Peter;  who 
was  bom  and  grew  up  in  poverty  and  grief,  until  he  was 
big  and  strong,  and  every  man's  cur  to  kick.  For  it  was  the 
greatest  pity  to  see  this  finely-made  fellow,  who  was  so  full  of 
fear  and  misery  that  if  even  a  girl  so  much  as  touched  him  he 
must  flood  himself  with  tears;  and  the  only  way  out  of  his 
misery  was  the  rope.  What  a  disgrace  it  was,  that  he  should 
have  earned  his  daily  bread  and  yet  have  been  kept  in  the  work- 
house, as  though  they  did  him  a  kindness  in  allowing  him  a  hole 
to  creep  into  there,  when  with  his  capacity  for  work  he  could 
have  got  on  anywhere!  And  it  became  quite  unendurable  as 
he  grew  up  and  was  still  misused  by  all  the  world,  and  treated 
like  a  dog.  But  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  he  broke  the  magic 
spell,  struck  down  his  tormentors,  and  leaped  out  into  the  day- 
l^ht  as  the  boldest  of  them  all ! 

They  drew  a  deep  breath  when  he  had  finished.  Marie 
clapped  her  hands.  'That  was  a  real  fairy-tale  1"  she  cried. 
Karl  threw  himself  upon  Peter  and  punmieled  away  at  him, 
although  that  serious-minded  lad  was  anything  but  a  tyrant! 

They  cheerfully  talked  the  matter  over.  Everybody  had 
something  to  say  about  Howling  Peter.  "That  was  damned  well 
done,"  said  the  men ;  *Tie  thrashed  the  whole  crew  from  begin- 
ning to  end;  a  fine  fellow  that!  And  a  strong  one  too!  But 
why  the  devil  did  he  take  such  a  long  time  about  it?  And  put 
up  with  all  that?" 

"Yes,  it  isn't  quite  so  easy  for  us  to  understand  that — ^not 
for  us,  who  boast  such  a  lot  about  our  rights !"  said  Pelle,  smil- 
ing. 

"Well,  you're  a  clever  chap,  and  you've  told  it  us  properly!" 
cried  the  dieerful  Jacob.  "But  if  ever  you  need  a  fist,  there's 
mine !"    He  seized  and  shook  Pelle's  hand. 

The  candles  had  long  burned  out,  but  they  did  not  notice  it. 


THE   GREAT   STEUQQLE  139 

Their  eyes  fastened  on  Pelle's  as  though  seeking  something, 
with  a  peculiar  expression  in  which  a  question  plainly  came 
and  went.  And  suddenly  they  overwhelmed  him  with  ques- 
tions. They  wanted  to  know  enough^  anyhow !  He  maintained 
that  a  whole  world  of  splendors  belonged  to  them,  and  now 
they  were  in  a  hurry  to  get  possession  of  them.  Even  the  old 
rag-picker  let  himself  be  carried  away  with  the  rest;  it  was  too 
alluring,  the  idea  of  giving  way  to  a  little  intoxication,  even 
if  the  everyday  world  was  to  come  after  it. 

Pelle  stood  among  them  all,  strong  and  hearty,  listening  to 
all  their  questions  with  a  confident  smile.  He  knew  all  that 
was  to  be  theirs — even  if  it  couldn't  come  just  at  once.  It  was 
a  matter  of  patience  and  perseverance;  but  that  they  couldn't 
understand  just  now.  When  they  had  at  last  entered  into  their 
glory  they  would  know  well  enough  how  to  protect  it.  He  had 
no  doubts;  he  stood  there  among  them  like  their  embodied 
consciousness,  happily  growing  from  deeply-buried  roots. 


XIII 

From  the  foundations  of  the  ''Ark''  rose  a  peculiar  sonnd, 
a  stumhlingy  countrified  footstep,  dragging  itself  in  heavy  foot- 
gear over  the  flagstones.  All  Pelle's  olood  rushed  to  his  heart ; 
he  threw  down  his  work,  and  with  a  leap  was  on  the  gallery, 
quite  convinced  that  this  was  only  an  empty  dream.  .  .  . 
But  there  below  in  the  court  stood  Father  Lasse  in  the  flesh, 
staring  up  through  the  timbers,  as  though  he  couldn't  believe  his 
own  eyes.    He  had  a  sack  filled  with  rubbish  on  his  back. 

''HaUo!''  cried  PeUe,  taking  the  stairs  in  long  leaps. 
'TIaUo  1*' 

''Good-day,  my  lad  !*'  said  Lasse,  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
emotion,  considering  his  son  with  his  lashless  eyes.  "Yes,  here 
you  have  Father  Lasse— if  you  vrill  have  him.  But  where, 
really,  did  you  come  from?  Seems  to  me  you  fell  down  from 
heaven  V^ 

Pelle  took  his  father's  sack.  "You  just  come  up  with  me,** 
he  said.  "You  can  trust  the  stairs  all  right;  they  are  stronger 
than  they  look.*' 

"Then  they  are  like  Lasse,'*  answered  the  old  man,  trudging 
up  dose  behind  him;  the  straps  of  his  half-Wellingtons  were 
peeping  out  at  the  side,  and  he  was  qjiite  the  old  man.  At  every 
landing  he  stood  still  and  uttered  his  comments  on  his  sur- 
roundings.   Pelle  had  to  admonish  him  to  be  silent. 

'  "One  doesn't  discuss  everything  aloud  here.    It  might  so 
easily  be  regarded  as  criticism,''  he  said. 

"No,  really?  Well,  one  must  learn  as  long  as  one  lives. 
Bui  just  look  how  they  stand  about  chattering  up  here !  There 
must  be  a  whole  courf^ard-f ull  1  Well,  well.  I  won't  say  any 
more.  I  knew  they  lived  one  on  top  of  another,  but  I  didn't 
think  there'd  be  so  little  room  here.    To  hang  the  backyard 

140 


THE    GHEAT   STHUGGLE  141 

out  in  front  of  the  kitchen  door,  one  on  top  of  another,  that's 
just  like  the  birds  that  build  all  on  one  bough.  Lord  Gbd,  sup- 
pose it  was  all  to  come  tumbling  down  one  fine  day  I'' 

''And  do  you  live  here?''  he  cried/ gazing  in  a  disillusioned 
manner  round  the  room  with  its  sloping  ceiling.  'Tve  often 
wondered  how  you  were  fixed  up  over  here.  A  few  days  ago 
I  met  a  man  at  home  who  said  they  were  talking  about  you 
already;  but  one  wouldn't  think  so  from  your  lodgings.  How- 
ever, it  isn't  far  to  heaven,  anyhow !" 

Pelle  was  silent.  He  had  come  to  love  his  den,  and  his 
whole  life  here;  but  Father  Lasse  continued  to  enlarge  upon 
his  hopes  of  his  son's  respectability  and  prosperity,  and  he  felt 
ashamed.  'fDid  you  imagine  I  was  living  in  one  of  the  royal 
palaces?"  he  said,  rather  bitterly. 

Lasse  looked  at  him  kindly  and  laid  both  hands  on  his 
shoulders.  "So  big  and  strong  as  you've  grown,  lad,"  hB  said, 
wondering.  '*Well,  and  now  you  have  me  here  too !  But  I  won't 
be  a  burden  to  you.  No,  but  at  home  it  had  grown  so  dismal 
after  what  happened  at  Due's,  that  I  got  ready  without  sending 
you  word.  And  then  I  was  able  to  come  over  with  one  of  the 
skippers  for  nothing." 

^ut  what's  this  about  Due?"  asked  Pelle.  '*!  hope  nothing 
bad?" 

''Good  God,  haven't  you  heard?  He  revenged  himself  on 
his  wife  because  he  discovered  her  with  the  Consul.  He  had 
been  absolutely  blind,  and  had  only  believed  the  best  of  her, 
imtil  he  surprised  her  in  her  sin.  Then  he  killed  her,  her  and 
the  children  they  had  together,  and  went  to  the  authorities  and 
gave  himself  up.  But  the  yoimgest,  whom  any  one  could  see 
was  the  Consul's,  he  didn't  touch.  Oh,  it  was  a  dreadful  mis- 
fortune I  Before  he  gave  himself  up  to  tiie  police  he  came  to 
me;  he  wanted  just  one  last  time  to  be  with  some  one  who 
woiUd  talk  it  over  with  him  without  hypocrisy.  I've  strangled 
Anna,'  he.  said,  as  soon  as  he  had  sat  down.  'It  had  to  be,  and 
I'm  not  sorry.  I'm  not  sorry.  The  children  that  were  mine, 
too.  I've  dealt  honestly  with  ttiem.'  Yes,  yes,  he  had  dealt 
honestly  with  the  poor  things!  1  just  wanted  to  say  good- 
bye  to  you,  Lasse,  for  my  life's  over  now,  happy  as  I  might 
have  been,  with  my  contented  nature.    But  Anna  always  wanted 


142  PBLLB    THE    CONQUEROR 

to  be  climbing^  and  if  I  got  on  it  was  her  shame  I  had  to  thank 
for  it.  I  never  wanted  anything  further  than  the  simple  hap- 
piness of  the  poor  man — a  good  wife  and  a  few  children — and 
now  I  must  go  to  prison!  (Jod  be  thanked  that  Anna  hasn't 
lived  to  see  that!  She  was  finer  in  her  feelings  than  the  rest, 
and  she  had  to  deceive  in  order  to  get  on  in  the  world.'  So 
he  sat  there^  talking  of  the  dead,  and  one  couldn't  notice  any 
feeling  in  him.  I  wouldn't  let  him  see  how  sick  at  heart  he 
made  me  feel.  For  him  it  was  the  best  thing,  so  long  as  his 
conscience  could  sleep  easy.  Tour  eyes  are  watering,  Lasse,' 
he  said  quietly;  'you  should  bathe  them  a  bit;  they  say  urine 
is  good.'  Yes,  (Jod  knows,  my  eyes  did  water!  God  of  my 
life,  yes!  Then  he  stood  up.  TTou,  too,  Lasse,  you  haven't 
much  longer  life  granted  you,'  he  said,  and  he  gave  me  his 
hand.  TTou  are  growing  old  now.  But  you  must  give  Pelle 
my  greetings — ^he's  safe  to  get  on!'" 

Pelle  sat  mournfully  listening  to  the  dismal  story.  But  he 
shuddered  at  the  last  words.  He  had  so  often  heard  the  ex- 
pression of  that  anticipation  of  his  good  fortune,  which  they 
all  seemed  to  feel,  and  had  rejoiced  to  hear  it;  it  was,  after  all, 
only  an  echo  of  his  own  self-confidence.  But  now  it  weighed 
upon  him  like  a  burden.  It  was  always  those  who  were  sinking 
who  believed  in  his  luck;  and  as  they  sank  they  flung  their 
hop(B8  upward  toward  him.  A  grievous  fashion  was  this  in 
which  his  good  fortune  vras  prophesied !  A  terrible  and  griev- 
ous blessing  it  was  that  was  spoken  over  him  and  his  success 
in  life  by  this  man  dedicated  to  death,  even  as  he  stepped  upon 
the  scaffold.  Pelle  sat  staring  at  the  floor  without  a  sign  of 
life,  a  brooding  expression  on  his  face ;  his  very  soul  was  shud- 
dering at  the  foreboding  of  a  superhuman  burden ;  and  suddenly 
a  light  was  flashed  before  his  eyes;  there  could  never  be  happi- 
ness for  him  alone — ^the  fairy-tale  was  dead!  He  was  bound 
up  with  all  the  others — ^he  must  partake  of  happiness  or  misfor- 
tune with  them;  that  was  why  the  imfortunate  Due  gave  him 
his  blessing.  In  his  soul  he  was  conscious  of  Due's  difficult 
journey,  as  though  he  himself  had  to  endure  the  horror  of  it. 
And  Pine  Anna,  who  must  clamb^  up  over  his  own  family  and 
tread  them  in  the  dust !  Never  again  could  he  wrench  himself 
quite  free  as  before!    He  had  already  encountered  much  un- 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  143 

happiness  and  had  learned  to  hate  its  cause.  But  this  was 
something  more — this  was  very  a£9ietion  itself! 

'^es/'  sighed  Lasse,  ^'a  lucky  thing  that  Brother  Kalle  did 
not  live  to  see  all  this.  He  worked  himself  to  skin  and  bone  for 
his  children,  and  now,  for  all  thanks,  he  lied  buried  in  the  poor- 
house  burying-ground.  Albinus,  who  travels  about  the  country 
as  a  conjurer,  was  the  only  one  who  had  a  thought  for  him ;  but 
the  money  came  too  late,  although  it  was  sent  by  tel^raph. 
Have  you  ever  heard  of  a  conjuring-trick  like  that — to  send 
money  from  England  to  Bomhohn  over  the  telegraph  cable?  A 
devilish  clever  acrobat !  Well,  Brother  Kalle,  he  knew  all  sorts 
of  conjuring-tricks  too,  but  he  didnH  learn  them  abroad.  They 
had  heard  nothing  at  all  of  Alfred  at  the  fimeral.  He 
belongs  to  the  fine  folks  now  and  has  cut  off  all  connection  with 
his  poor  relations.  He  has  been  appointed  to  various  posts  of* 
honor,  and  they  say  he's  a  regular  bloodhound  toward  the  poor 
— a  man's  always  worst  toward  his  own  kind.  But  the  fine 
folks,  they  say,  tiiey  think  great  things  of  him.'* 

Pelle  heard  the  old  man's  speech  only  as  a  monotonous 
trickle  of  sound. 

Due,  Due,  the  best,  the  most  good-natured  man  he  knew,  who 
championed  Anna's  illegitimate  child  against  her  own  mother, 
and  loved  her  like  his  own,  because  she  was  defenceless  and 
needed  his  love — ^Due  was  now  to  lay  his  head  on  the  scaffold ! 
So  dearly  bought  was  the  fulfilment  of  his  wish,  to  obtain  a 
pair  of  horses  and  become  a  coachman!  He  had  obtained  the 
horses  and  a  carriage  on  credit,  and  had  himself  made  up  for 
the  instalments  and  the  interest — ^the  Consul  had  merely  stood 
security  for  him.  And  for  this  humble  success  he  was  now 
treading  the  path  of  shame !  His  steps  echoed  in  Pelle's  soul ; 
Pelle  did  not  know  how  he  was  going  to  bear  it.  He  longed  for 
his  former  obtuseness. 

Lasse  continued  to  chatter.  For  him  it  was  fate — grievous 
and  heavy,  but  it  cotdd  not  be  otherwise.  And  the  meeting 
with  Pelle  had  stirred  up  so  many  memories;  he  was  quite  ex- 
cited. Everything  he  saw  amused  him.  However  did  anybody 
hit  on  the  idea  of  packing  folks  away  like  this,  one  on  top  of 
another,  like  herrings  in  a  barrel?  And  at  home  on  Bomholm 
there  were  whole  stretches  of  country  where  no  one  lived  at 


144  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

all  I  He  did  not  venture  to  approach  the  window,  bnt  prudently 
stood  a  little  way  back  in  the  room,  looking  out  over  the  roofs. 
There,  too,  was  a  crazy  arrangement  1  One  could  count  the  ears 
in  a  cornfield  as  easily  as  the  houses  over  here ! 

Pelle  called  Marie,  who  had  discreetly  remained  in  her  own 
room.  'This  is  my  foster-mother,''  he  said,  with  his  arm  round 
her  shotdders,  ''And  that  is  Father  Lasse,  whom  you  are  fond 
of  already,  so  you  always  say.  Now  can  you  get  us  some  break- 
fast?'*   He  gave  her  money. 

"She's  a  good  girl,  that  she  is,"  said  Lasse,  feeling  in  his 
sack.  "She  shall  have  a  present.  There's  a  red  apple,"  he  said 
to  Marie,  when  she  returned ;  "you  must  eat  it,  and  then  youll 
be  my  sweetheart."    Marie  smiled  gravely  and  looked  at  Pelle. 

They  borrowed  the  old  clothes  dealer's  handcart  and  went 
across  to  the  apple  barges  to  fetch  Lasse's  belongings.  He  had 
sold  most  of  them  in  order  not  to  bring  too  great  a  load  to  the 
city.  But  he  had  retained  a  bedstead  with  bedding,  and  all 
sorts  of  other  things.  "And  then  I  have  still  to  give  you  greet- 
ings from  Sort  and  Marie  Nielsen,"  he  said. 

Pelle  blushed.  "I  owe  her  a  few  words,  but  over  here  I 
quite  forgot  it  somehow!  And  I  have  half  promised  her  my 
portrait.    I  must  see  now  about  sending  it." 

"Yes,  do,"  said  Father  Lasse.  "I  don't  know  how  close  you 
two  stand  to  each  other,  but  she  was  a  good  woman.  And  those 
who  stay  behind,  they're  sad  when  they're  forgotten.  Bemem- 
ber  that." 

At  midday  Lasse  had  tidied  himself  a  trifle  and  began  to 
brush  his  hat. 

"What  now  ?"  inquired  Pelle.  "You  don't  want  to  go  out  all 
alone  ?" 

"I  want  to  go  out  and  look  at  the  city  a  bit,"  replied  Lasse, 
as  though  it  w^jre  quite  a  matter  of  course.  "I  want  to  find 
some  work,  and  perhaps  I'll  go  and  have  a  peep  at  the  king  for 
once.    You  need  only  explain  in  which  direction  I  must  go." 

"You  had  better  wait  until  I  can  come  with  you — ^you'll  only 
lose  yourself." 

"Shall  I  do  that?"  replied  Lasse,  offended.  "But  I  found 
my  way  here  alone,  I  seem  to  remember  I" 

"I  can  go  with  the  old  man  I"  said  Marie. 


THE    GEEAT   STRFGGLE  146 

'TTes,  you  come  with  the  old  man,  then  no  one  can  say  he 
has  lost  his  youth !''  cried  Lasse  jestingly,  as  he  took  her  hand. 
*1  think  ve  two  shall  be  good  friends." 

Toward  evening  they  returned.  *TPhere  are  folks  enough 
here/'  said  Lasse,  panting,  *T)ut  there  doesnH  seem  to  be  a  su- 
perfluity of  work.  I've  been  asking  first  this  one  and  then  that, 
but  no  one  will  have  me.  Well,  that's  all  right !  If  they  won't, 
I  can  just  put  a  spike  on  my  stick  and  set  to  work  collecting  the 
bits  of  paper  in  the  streets,  like  the  other  old  men;  I  can  at 
least  do  that  still." 

''But  I  <;an't  give  my  consent  to  that,"  replied  Pelle  for- 
cibly.   'Ttfy  father  shan't  become  a  scavenger !" 

''Well — ^but  I  must  get  something  to  do,  or  I  shall  go  back 
home  again.  I'm  not  going  to  go  idling  about  here  while  you 
work." 

"But  you  can  surely  rest  and  enjoy  a  little  comfort  in  your 
old  days,  father.    However,  we  shall  soon  see."    . 

"I  can  rest,  can  I  ?  I  had  better  lie  on  my  back  and  let  my- 
self be  fed  like  a  long-clothes  child  1  Only  I  don't  believe  my 
back  would  stand  it  1" 

They  had  placed  Lasse's  bed  with'  the  footboard  imder  the 
sloping  ceiling;  there  was  just  room  enough  for  it.  Pelle  felt 
like  a  little  boy  when  he  went  to  bed  that  night;  it  was  so  many 
years  since  he  had  slept  in  the  same  room  as  Father  Lasse.  But 
in  the  night  he  was  oppressed  by  evil  dreams;  Due's  dreadful 
fate  pursued  him  in  his  sleep.  His  energetic,  good-humored  face 
went  drifting  through  the  endless  grayness,  the  head  bowed  low, 
the  hands  chained  behind  him,  a  heavy  iron  chain  was  about  his 
neck,  and  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  ground  as  though  he  were 
searching  the  very  abyss.  When  Pelle  awoke  it  was  because 
Father  Lasse  stood  bending  over  his  bed^  feeling  his  face,  as  in 
the  days  of  his  childhood. 


XIV 

Lassb  would  not  sit  idle,  and  was  busily  employed  in  run- 
ning about  the  city  in  search  of  work.  When  he  spoke  to  Pelle 
he  put  a  cheerful  face  on  a  bad  business;  and  looked  hopeful; 
but  the  capital  had  already  disillusioned  him.  He  could  not 
understand  all  this  hubbub,  and  felt  that  he  was  too  old  to  enter 
into  it  and  fathom  its  meaning — ^besides,  perhaps  it  had  none  I 
It  really  looked  as  though  everybody  was  just  running  to  and 
fro  and  following  his  own  nose,  without  troubling  in  the  least 
about  all  the  rest.  And  there  were  no  greetings  when  you 
passed  folks  in  the  street;  the  whole  thing  was  more  than  Lasse 
could  understand.  *1  ought  to  have  stayed  at  home,''  he  would 
often  think. 

And  as  for  Pelle — well,  Pelle  was  taken  up  with  his  own 
affairs !  That  was  only  to  be  expected  in  a  man.  He  ran  about 
going  to  meetings  and  agitating,  and  had  a  great  deal  to  do; 
his  thoughts  were  continually  occupied,  so  that  there  was  mo 
time  for  familiar  gossip  as  in  the  old  days.  He  was  engaged, 
moreover,  so  that  what  time  was  not  devoted  to  the  Labor  move- 
ment was  given  to  his  sweetheart.  How  the  boy  had  grown,  and 
how  he  had  altered,  bodily  and  in  every  way !  Lasse  had  a  feel- 
ing that  he  only  reached  up  to  Pelle's  belt  nowadays.  He  had 
grown  terribly  serious,  and  was  quite  the  man;  he  looked  as 
though  he  was  ready  to  grasp  the  reins  of  something  or  other; 
you  would  never,  to  look  at  him,  have  thought  that  he  was  only 
a  journeyman  cobbler.  There  was  an  air  of  responsibility  about 
him-^just  a  little  too  much  may  be! 

Marie  got  into  the  way  of  accompanying  the  old  man.  They 
had  become  good  friends,  and  there  was  plenty  for  them  to 
gossip  over.  She  would  take  him  to  the  courtyard  of  the  Ber- 
lingske  Tidende,  where  the  people  in  search  of  work  eddied 

146 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  147 

about  the  advertisement  boards  filling  up  the  gateway  and  form- 
ing a  crowd  in  the  street  outside. 

*TVe  shall  never  get  in  there  1**  said  Lasse  dejectedly.  But 
Marie  worked  herself  forward;  when  people  scolded  her  she 
scolded  them  back.  Lasse  was  quite  horrified  by  the  language 
the  child  "used ;  but  it  was  a  great  help ! 

Marie  read  out  the  different  notices,  and  Lasse  made  his 
comments  on  every  one,  and  when  the  bystanders  laughed  Lasse 
gazed  at  them  uncomprehendingly,  then  laughed  vnth  them,  and 
nodded  his  head  merrily.    He  entered  into  everything. 

**What  do  you  say?  (Gentleman's  coachman?  Yes,  I  can 
drive  a  pair  of  horses  well  enough,  but  perhaps  I'm  not  fine 
enough  for  the  gentry — I'm  afraid  my  nose  would  drip  !'* 

He  looked  about  him  importantly,  like  a  child  that  is  under 
observation.  ''But  errand  boy — that  isn't  so  bad.  Well  make 
a  note  of  that.  There's  no  great  skill  needed  to  be  everybody's 
dogt  House  porter!  Deuce  take  it — there  one  need  only  sit 
downstairs  and  make  angry  faces  out  of  a  basement  window  I 
We'll  look  in  there  and  try  our  luck." 

They  impressed  the  addresses  on  their  minds  imtil  they 
knew  them  by  heart,  and  then  squeezed  their  way  out  through 
the  crowd.  'TDamn  funny  old  codger  I"  said  the  people,  looking 
after  him  with  a  smile — ^Lasse  was  quite  high-spirited.  They 
went  from  house  to  house,  but  no  one  had  any  use  for  him. 
The  people  only  laughed  at  the  broken  old  figure  with  the  wide- 
toed  boots. 

'TPhey  laugh  at  me,"  said  Lasse,  quite  cast  down;  ^^rhaps 
because  I  still  look  a  bit  countrified.  But  that  after  all  can 
soon  be  overcome. 

'1  believe  it's  because  you  are  so  old  and  yet  want  to  get 
work,"  said  Marie. 

'*I)o  you  think  it  can  be  on  that  account?  Yet  I'm  only 
just  seventy,  and  on  both  my  father's  and  mother's  side  we  have 
almost  all  lived  to  ninety.  Do  you  really  think  thafs  it?  If 
they'd  only  let  me  set  to  work  they'd  soon  see  there's  still 
strength  in  old  Lasse !  Many  a  younger  fellow  would  sit  on  his 
backside  for  sheer  astonishment.  But  what  are  those  people 
there,  who  stand  there  and  look  so  dismal  and  keep  their  hands 
in  their  pockets  ?" 


148  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

'^Those  are  the  unemployed ;  it's  a  slack  tune  for  work^  and 
they  say  it  will  get  still  worse/' 

''And  all  those  who  were  crowding  round  the  notice-board — 
were  they  idle  hands  too?'* 

Marie  nodded. 

''But  then  if  s  worse  here  than  at  home — ^there  at  least  we 
always  have  the  stone-cutting  when  there  is  nothing  else.  And 
I  had  really  believed  that  the  good  time  had  abeady  b^un  over 
here  P' 

'Telle  says  it  will  soon  come,'*  said  Marie  consolingly. 

"Yes,  Pelle — he  can  well  talk.  He  is  young  and  healthy 
and  has  the  time  before  him.'' 

Lasse  was  in  a  bad  temper;  nothing  seemed  right  to  him.  In 
order  to  give  him  pleasure,  Marie  took  him  to  see  the  guard 
changed,  which  cheered  him  a  little. 

"Those  are  smart  fellows  truly,"  he  said.  "Hey,  hey,  how 
they  hold  themselves!  And  fine  clothes  too.  But  that  they 
know  well  enough  themselves!  Yes — ^I've  never  been  a  king's 
soldier.  I  went  up  for  it  when  I  was  young  and  felt  I'd  like  it;  I 
was  a  smart  fellow  then,  you  can  take  my  word  for  it!  But 
they  wotddn't  have  me;  my  figure  wotddn't  do,  they  said;  I 
had  worked  too  hard,  from  the  time  I  was  quite  a  child. 
They'd  got  it  into  their  heads  in  those  days  that  a  man 
ought  to  be  made  just  so  and  so.  I  think  it's  to  please  the 
fine  ladies.  Otherwise  I,  too,  might  have  defended  my 
country." 

Down  by  the  Exchange  the  roadway  was  broken  up ;  a  crowd 
of  navvies  were  at  work  digging  out  the  foundation  for  a  con- 
duit.   Lasse  grew  quite  excited,  and  hurried  up  to  them. 

"That  would  be  the  sort  of  thing  for  me,"  he  said,  and  he» 
stood  there  and  fell  into  a  dream  at  the  sight  of  the  work.  Every 
time  the  workers  swung  their  picks  he  followed  the  movement 
with  his  old  head.  He  drew  closer  and  closer.  "Hi,"  he  said  to 
one  of  the  workers,  who  was  taking  a  breath,  "can  a  man  get 
taken  on  here  ?" 

The  man  took  a  long  look  at  him.  "Gtet  taken  on  here  ?"  he 
cried,  turning  more  to  his  comrades  than  to  Lasse.  "Ah,  you'd 
like  to,  would  you?  Here  you  foreigners  come  running,  from 
Funen  and  Middlefart,  and  want  to  take  the  bread  out  of  the 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  149 

mouths  of  US  natives.  Get  away  with  jou,  you  Jutland  car- 
rion P    Laughing,  he  swung  his  pick  over  his  head. 

Lasse  drew  slowly  back.  ''But  he  was  angry!"  he  said  de- 
jectedly to  Marie. 

In  the  evening  Pelle  had  to  go  to  all  his  various  meetings, 
whatever  they  might  be.  He  had  a  great  deal  to  do,  and,  hard 
as  he  worked,  the  situation  still  remained  unfavorable.  It  was 
by  no  means  so  easy  a  thing,  to  break  the  back  of  poverty ! 

'TTou  just  look  after  your  own  aflEairs,''  said  Lasse.  ^  sit 
here  and  chat  a  little  with  the  children — and  then  I  go  to  bed. 
I  don't  know  why,  but  my  body  gets'  fonder  and  fonder  of  bed, 
although  I've  never  been  considered  lazy  exactly.  It  must  be 
the  grave  that's  calling  me.  But  I  can't  go  about  idle  any 
longer — ^I'm  quite  stiflE  in  my  body  from  doing  it." 

Formerly  Lasse  never  used  to  speak  of  the  grave;  but  now 
he  had  seemingly  reconciled  himself  to  the  idea.  ''And  the  city 
is  so  big  and  so  confusing,"  he  told  the  children.  ''And  the 
little  one  has  put  by  soon  runs  through  one's  fingers." 

He  found  it  much  easier  to  confide  his  troubles  to  them. 
PeUe  had  grown  so  big  and  so  serious  that  he  absolutely  inspired 
respect.  One  could  take  no  real  pleasure  in  worrying  him  with 
trivialities. 

But  with  the  children  he  found  himself  in  tune.  They  had 
to  contend  with  little  obstacles  and  difiSculties,  just  as  he  did, 
and  could  grasp  all  his  troubles.  They  gave  him  good,  practical 
advice,  and  in  return  he  gave  them  his  senile  words  of  wisdom. 

^  don't  exactly  know  why  it  is  so,"  he  said,  'T)ut  this  great 
city  makes  me  quite  confused  and  queer  in  the  head.  To  men- 
tion nothing  else,  no  one  here  knows  me  and  looks  after  me 
•when  I  go  by.  That  takes  all  the  courage  out  of  my  knees.  At 
home  there  was  always  one  or  another  who  would  turn  his  head 
and  say  to  himself,  liook,  there  goes  old  Lasse,  hell  be  going 
down  to  the  harbor  to  break  stone;  devil  take  me,  but  how  he 
holds  himself !  Many  a  man  wotdd  nod  to  me  too,  and  I  myself 
knew  every  second  man.  Here  they  all  go  running  by  as  if  they 
were  crazy!  I  don't  understand  how  you  manage  to  find  em- 
ployment here,  Karl?" 

"Oh,  thafs  quite  easy,"  replied  the  boy.  "About  six  in  the 
morning  I  get  to  the  vegetable  market;  there  is  always  some- 


160  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

thing  to  be  delivered  for  the  small  dealers  who  can't  keep  a  man. 
When  the  vegetable  market  is  over  I  deliver  flowers  for  the 
gardeners.  That's  a  very  uncertain  business,  for  I  get  nothing 
more  than  the  tips.  And  besides  that  I  run  wherever  I  think 
there's  anything  going.  To  the  East  Bridge  and  out  to  Freder- 
iksburg.  And  I  have  a  few  regular  places  too,  where  I  go  every 
afternoon  for  an  hour  and  deliver  goods.  There's  always  some* 
thing  if  one  runs  about  properly." 

''And  does  that  provide  you  with  an  average  good  employ* 
ment  every  day?"  said  Lasse  wonderingly.  '*The  arrangement 
looks  to  me  a  little  uncertain.  In  the  morning  you  can't  be  sure 
you  will  have  earned  anything  when  the  night  comes." 

*'Ah,  Karl  is  so  quick,"  said  Marie  knowingly.  ''When  the 
times  are  ordinarily  good  he  can  earn  a  krone  a  day  regularly." 

"And  that  could  really  be  made  a  regular  calling?"  No, 
Lasse  couldn't  imderstand  it 

"Very  often  if  s  evening  before  I  have  earned  anything  at  all, 
but  one  just  has  to  stir  one's  stumps;  there's  always  something 
or  other  if  one  knows  where  to  look  for  it." 

"What  do  you  think — suppose  I  were  to  go  with  you  ?"  said 
Lasse  thoughtfully. 

"You  can't  do  that,  because  I  run  the  whole  time.  Beally 
you'd  do  much  better  to  hide  one  of  your  arms." 

"Hide  one  of  my  arms?"  said  Lasse  wonderingly. 

"Yes — stick  one  arm  under  your  coat  and  then  go  up  to 
people  and  ask  them  for  something.  That  wouldn't  be  any 
trouble  to  you,  you  look  like  an  invalid." 

"Do  I,  indeed?"  asked  Lasse,  blinking  his  eyes.  "I  never 
knew  that  before.  But  even  if  that  were  so  I  shouldn't  like  to 
beg  at  people's  doors.  I  don't  think  any  one  will  get  old  Lasse 
to  do  that" 

"Then  go  along  to  the  lime  works — ^they  are  looking  for 
stone-breakers  these  days,"  said  the  omniscient  youngster. 

"Now  you  are  talking!"  said  Lasse;  "so  they  have  stone 
here?  Yes,  I  brought  my  stone-cutter's  tools  with  me,  and  if 
there's  one  thing  on  earth  I  long  to  do  it  is  to  be  able  to  bang 
away  at  a  stone  again  1" 


XV 

Pellb  was  now  a  man;  he  was  able  to  look  after  his  own 
affairs  and  a  little  more  besides;  and  he  was  capable  of  weigh- 
ing one  cirenmstanee  against  another.  He  had  thrust  aside  his 
horror  concerning  Due's  fate,  and  once  again  saw  light  in  the 
future.  But  this  horror  still  lurked  within  his  mind,  corroding 
everything  else,  lending  everything  a  gloomy,  sinster  hue.  Over 
his  brow  brooded  a  dark  cloud,  as  to  which  he  himself  was  not 
quite  clear.  But  Ellen  saw  it  and  stroked  it  away  with  her  soft 
fingers,  in  order  to  make  it  disappear.  It  formed  a  curious 
contrast  to  his  fresh,  ruddy  face,  like  a  meaningless  threat  upon 
a  fine  spring  day. 

He  began  to  be  conscious  of  confidence  like  a  sustaining 
strength.  It  was  not  only  in  the  ''Ark*'  that  he  was  idolized; 
his  comrades  looked  up  to  him ;  if  there  was  anything  important 
in  hand  their  eyes  involuntarily  turned  to  him.  Although  he 
had,  thoughtlessly  enough,  well-nigh  wrecked  the  organism  in 
order  to  come  to  grips  with  Meyer,  he  had  fully  made  up  for 
his  action,  and  the  Union  was  now  stronger  than  ever,  and  this 
was  his  doing.  So  he  could  stretch  his  limbs  and  give  a  little 
thought  to  his  own  affairs. 

He  and  Ellen  felt  a  warm  longing  to  come  together  and  live 
in  their  own  little  home.  There  were  many  objections  that 
might  be  opposed  to  such  a  course,  and  he  was  not  blind  to 
them.  Pelle  was  a  valiant  worker,  but  his  earnings  were  not  so 
large  that  one  could  found  a  family  on  them ;  it  was  the  naked 
truth  that  even  a  good  worker  could  not  properly  support  a  wife 
and  children.  He  counted  on  children  as  a  matter  of  course,  and 
the  day  would  come  also  when  Father  Lasse  would  no  longer 
be  able  to  earn  his  daily  bread.    But  that  day  lay  still  in  the 

161 


162  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

remote  future,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  no  more  expeii- 
sive  to  live  with  a  companion  than  alone — if  that  companion 
was  a  good  and  saving  wife.  If  a  man  meant  to  enjoy  some 
little  share  of  the  joy  of  life,  he  must  close  his  eyes  and  leap 
over  all  obstacles,  and  for  once  put  his  trust  in  the  exceptionaL 

^It^ll  soon  be  better,  too,'*  said  Mason  Stolpe.  'Things  look 
bad  now  in  most  trades,  but  you  see  yourself,  how  everything 
is  drawing  to  a  great  crisis.  Give  progress  a  kick  behind  and 
ask  her  to  hurry  herself  a  little — there's  something  to  be  gained 
by  that.  A  man  ought  to  marry  while  he's  still  young;  what's 
the  good  of  going  about  and  hankering  after  one  another?" 

Madam  Stolpe  was,  as  always,  of  his  opinion.  ''We  married 
and  enjoyed  the  sweetness  of  it  while  our  blood  was  still  yoimgr 
Thaf  s  why  we  have  something  now  that  we  can  xlepend  on," 
she  said  simply,  looking  at  Pelle. 

So  it  was  determined  that  the  wedding  should  be  held  that 
spring.  In  March  the  youngest  son  would  complete  his  ap- 
prenticeship, so  that  the  wedding  feast  and  the  journeyman's 
feast  could  be  celebrated  simultaneously. 

On  the  canal,  just  opposite  the  prison,  a  little  two-roomed 
dwelling  was  standing  vacant,  and  this  they  rented.  Mason 
Stolpe  wanted  to  have  the  young  couple  to  live  out  by  the 
North  Bridge,  "among  respectable  people,"  but  Pelle  had  be- 
come attached  to  this  quarter.  Moreover,  he  had  a  host  of 
customers  there,  which  would  give  him  a  foothold,  and  there, 
too,  were  the  canals.  For  Pelle,  the  canals  were  a  window  open- 
ing on  the  outer  world;  they  gave  his  mind  a  sense  of  liberty; 
he  always  felt  oppressed  among  the  stone  walls  by  the  North 
Bridge.  Ellen  let  him  choose — it  was  indifferent  to  her  where 
they  lived.  She  would  gladly  have  gone  to  the  end  of  the  world 
witii  him,  in  order  to  yield  herself. 

She  had  saved  a  little  money  in  her  situation,  and  Pelle  also 
had  a  little  put  by;  he  was  wise  in  his  generation,  and  cut  down 
all  their  necessities.  When  EUen  was  free  they  rummaged 
about  buying  things  for  their  home.  Many  things  they  bought 
second-hand,  for  cheapness,  but  not  for  the  bedroom;  there 
everything  was  to  be  brand-new  1 

It  was  a  glorious  time,  in  which  every  hour  was  full  of  its 
own  rich  significance;  there  was  no  room  for  brooding  or  for 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  153 

care.  Ellen  often  came  running  in  to  drag  him  from  his  work; 
he  mnst  come  with  her  and  look  at  something  or  other — one 
could  get  it  so  cheap — but  quickly,  quickly,  before  it  should  be 
gone !  On  her  **oflP'  Sundays  she  would  reduce  the  little  home 
to  order,  and  afterward  they  wotdd  walk  arm  in  arm  through 
the  city,  and  visit  the  old  people. 

Pelle  had  had  so  much  to  do  with  the  affairs  of  others,  and 
had  given  so  little  thought  to  his  own,  that  it  was  delightful, 
for  once  in  a  way,  to  be  able  to  rest  and  think  of  himself.  The 
crowded  outer  world  went  drifting  far  away  from  him ;  he  barely 
glanced  at  it  as  he  built  his  nest;  he  thought  no  more  about 
social  problems  than  the  birds  that  nest  in  spring. 

And  one  day  Pelle  carried  his  possessions  to  his  new  home, 
and  for  tiie  last  time  lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  ''Ark.''  There 
was  no  future  for  any  one  here;  only  the  shipwrecked  sought 
an  abiding  refuge  within  these  walls.  It  was  time  for  Pelle 
to  move  on.  Tet  from  all  this  raggedness  and  overcrowding 
rose  a  voice  which  one  did  not  hear  elsewhere;  a  careless  twit- 
tering, like  that  of  unlucky  birds  that  sit  and  plume  their 
feathers  when  a  little  sunlight  falls  on  them.  He  looked  back 
on  the  time  he  had  spent  here  with  pensive  melancholy. 

On  the  night  before  his  wedding  he  lay  restlessly  tossing  to 
and  fro.  Something  seemed  to  follow  him- in  his  sleep.  At  last 
he  woke,  and  was  sensible  of  a  stifled  moaning,  that  came  and 
went  with  long  intervals  in  between,  as  though  the  ''Ark*'  itself 
were  moaning  in  an  evil  dream.  Suddenly  he  stood  up,  lit  the 
lamp,  and  began  to  polish  his  wedding-boots,  which  were  still  on 
the  lasts,  so  that  they  might  retain  their  handsome  shape.  Lasse 
^was  still  asleep,  and  the  long  gangway  outside  lay  still  in 
slumber. 

The  sound  returned,  louder  and  more  long-drawn,  and  some- 
thing about  it  reminded  him  of  Stone  Farm,  and  awaked  the 
horror  of  his  childish  days.  He  sat  and  sweated  at  his  work. 
Suddenly  he  heard  some  one  outside — some  one  who  groped 
along  the  gangway  and  fumbled  at  his  door.  He  sprang  for- 
ward and  opened  it.  Suspense  ran  through  his  body  like  an 
icy  shudder.  Outside  stood  Hanne's  mother,  shivering  in  the 
morning  cold. 

^eUe,''  she  whispered  anxiously,  ^fs  so  near  now*-would 


164  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

you  run  and  fetch  Madam  Blom  from  Market  Street?  I 
can't  leave  Hanne.  And  I  ought  to  be  wishing  you  hiq>pi- 
ness,  too/* 

The  errand  was  not  precisely  convenient,  nevertheless,  he  ran 
off.  And  then  he  sat  listening,  working  still,  but  as  quietly 
as  possible,  in  order  not  to  wake  Father  Lasse.  But  then  it  was 
time  for  the  children  to  get  up;  for  the  last  time  he  knocked 
on  the  wall  and  heard  Marie's  sleepy  'TTe — es!'*  At  the  same 
moment  the  silence  of  night  was  broken;  the  inmates  tumbled 
out  and  ran  barefooted  to  the  lavatories,  slamming  their  doors. 
'The  Princess  is  lamenting,'*  they  told  one  another.  ''She's 
lamenting  because  she's  lost  what  shell  never  get  again."  Then 
the  moaning  rose  to  a  loud  shriek,  and  suddenly  it  was  silent 
over  there. 

Poor  Hanne  1  Now  she  had  another  to  care  for — and  who 
was  its  father?    Hard  times  were  in  store  for  her. 

Lasse  was  not  going  to  work  to-day,  although  the  wedding- 
feast  was  not  to  be  held  until  the  afternoon.  He  was  in  a 
solemn  mood,  from  the  earliest  morning,  and  admonished  Pelle 
not  to  lay  things  cross-wise,  and  the  like.  Pelle  laughed  every 
time. 

'TTes,  you  laugh,"  said  Lasse,  'T)ut  this  is  an  important  day 
— ^perhaps  the  most  important  in  your  life.  You  ought  to  take 
care  lest  the  first  trifling  thing  you  do  should  ruin  everything." 

He  pottere<}  about,  treating  everything  as  an  omen.  He  was 
delighted  with  the  sun — it  rose  out  of  a  sack  and  grew  brighter 
and  brighter  in  the  course  of  the  day.  It  was  never  lucky  for 
the  sun  to  begin  too  blazing. 

Marie  went  to  and  fro,  considering  Pelle  with  an  expression 
of  suppressed  anxiety,  like  a  mother  who  is  sending  her  child 
into  tiie  world,  and  strives  hard  to  seem  cheerful,  thought  Pelle. 
Yes,  yes,  she  had  been  like  a  mother  to  him  in  many  senses, 
although  she  was  only  a  child ;  she  had  taken  him  into  her  nest 
as  a  little  forsaken  bird,  and  with  amazement  had  seen  him 
grow.  He  had  secretly  helped  her  when  he  could.  But  what 
was  that  in  comparison  with  the  singing  that  had  made  his 
work  easy,  when  he  saw  how  the  three  waifs  accepted  things 
as  they  were,  building  their  whole  existence  on  nothing?  Who 
would  help  them  now  over  the  difficult  places  without  letting 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  166 

them  see  the  helping  hand?  He  must  keep  watchful  eye  on 
them. 

Marie's  cheeks  were  a  hectic  red,  and  her  eyes  were  shining 
when  he  held  her  roughened  hands  in  his  and  thanked  her  'for 
being  such  a  good  neighbor.  Her  narrow  chest  was  working,  and 
a  reflection  of  hidden  beauty  rested  upon  her.  Pelle  had  taught 
her  blood  to  find  the  way  to  her  colorless  face;  whenever  she 
was  brought  into  intimate  contact  with  him  or  his  affairs,  her 
cheeks  glowed,  and  every  time  a  little  of  the  color  was  left  be- 
hind. It  was  as  though  his  vitality  forced  the  sap  to  flow  up- 
ward in  her,  in  sympathy,  and  now  she  stood  before  him,  trying 
to  burst  her  stunted  shell,  and  unfold  her  gracious  capacities 
before  him,  and  as  yet  was  unable  to  do  so.  Suddenly  she  fell 
upon  his  breast.  'Telle,  Pelle,*'  she  said,  hiding  her  face 
against  him.    And  then  she  ran  into  her  own  room. 

Lasse  and  Pelle  carried  the  last  things  over  to  the  new  home, 
and  put  everything  tidy ;  then  they  dressed  themselves  in  their 
best  and  set  out  for  the  Stoples'  home.  Pelle  was  wearing  a 
top-hat  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  and  looked  quite  magnifi- 
cent in  it.  'TTou  are  like  a  big  city  chap,'*  said  Lasse,  who 
cotdd  not  look  at  him  often  enough.  ''But  what  do  you  think 
theyTl  say  of  old  Lasse?  They  are  half-way  fine  folks  them- 
selves, and  I  don't  know  how  to  conduct  myself.  Wouldn't  it 
perhaps  be  better  if  I  were  to  turn  back?" 

'TOon't  talk  like  that,  father !"  said'  Pelle. 

Lasse  was  monstrously  pleased  at  the  idea  of  attending  the 
wedding-feast,  but  he  had  all  sorts  of  misgivings.  These  last 
years  had  made  him  shy  of  strangers,  and  he  liked  to  creep  into 
comers.  His  holiday  clothes,  moreover,  were  worn  out,  and  his 
every-day  things  were  patched  and  mended ;  his  long  coat  he  had 
hired  expressly  for  the  occasion,  while  the  white  collar  and 
cuffs  belonged  to  Peter.  He  did  not  feel  at  all  at  home  in  his 
clothes,  and  looked  like  an  embarrassed  schoolboy  waiting  for 
confirmation. 

At  the  Stolpes'  the  whole  household  was  topsy-turvy.  The 
guests  who  were  to  go  to  the  church  had  already  arrived ;  they 
were  fidgeting  about  in  the  living-room  and  whistling  to  them- 
selves, or  looking  out  into  the  street,  and  feeling  bored.  Stople's 
writing-table   had    been   turned   into   a   side-board,   and    the 


156  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOB 

brothers  were  opening  bottles  of  beer  and  politely  pressing 
everybody :  *T)o  take  a  sandwich  with  it — ^youTl  get  a  dry  throat 
standing  so  long  and  saying  nothing/' 

In  the  best  room  Stolpe  was  pacing  up  and  down  and  mut- 
tering. He  was  in  his  shirtsleeves,  waiting  until  it  was  his 
turn  to  use  the  bedroom,  where  Ellen  and  her  mother  had 
locked  themselves  in.  From  time  to  time  the  door  was  opened 
a  little,  and  EUen's  bare  white  arm  appeared,  as  she  threw  her 
father  some  article  of  attire.  Then  Pellets  heart  began  to 
thump. 

On  the  window-sill  stood  Madam  Stolpe's  myrtle;  it  was 
stripped  quite  bare. 

Now  Stolpe  came  back;  he  was  ready!  Pelle  had  only  to 
button  his  ooUar  for  him.  He  took  Lasse's  hand  and  then  went 
to  fetch  The  Working  Man.  *TTow  you  just  ought  to  hear  this, 
what  they  say  of  your  son,*'  he  said,  and  began  to  read: 

''Our  young  pariy-member,  Pelle,  to-day  celebrates  his  nup- 
tials with  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respected 
members  of  the  party,  Mason  Stolpe.  This  young  man,  who  has 
already  done  a  great  deal  of  work  for  the  Causey  was  last  night 
unanimously  proposed  as  President  of  his  organization.  We 
give  the  young  couple  our  best  wishes  for  the  future.'' 

''That  speaks  for  itself,  eh?"  Stolpe  handed  the  paper  to 
his  guests. 

"Yes,  that  looks  weU  indeed,"  they  said,  passing  the  paper 
from  hand  to  hand.  Lasse  moved  his  lips  as  though  he,  too, 
were  reading  the  notice  through.  "Yes,  devilish  good,  and  they 
know  how  to  put  these  things,"  he  said,  delighted. 

"But  what's  wrong  with  Petersen — ^is  he  going  to  resign?" 
asked  Stolpe. 

"He  is  ill,'*  replied  Pelle.  "But  I  wasn't  there  last  night, 
so  I  don't  know  anything  about  it."  Stolpe  gazed  at  him,  as- 
tonished. 

Madam  Stolpe  came  in  and  drew  Pelle  into  the  bedroom, 
where  Ellen  stood  like  a  snow-white  revelation,  with  a  long 
veil  and  a  myrtle-wreath  in  her  hair.  "Eeally  you  two  are  sup- 
posed not  to  see  one  another,  but  I  think  that's  wrong,"  she 
said,  and  with  a  loving  glance  she  pushed  them  into  each  other's 
arms. 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  157 

Frederik,  who  was  leaning  out  of  the  window,  in  order  to 
watch  for  the  carriage,  came  and  thundered  on  the  door.  'TThe 
carriage  is  there,  children  I'^  he  roared,  in  quite  a  needlessly  loud 
voice.    *rrhe  carriage  is  there  V^ 

And  they  drove  away  in  it,  although  the  church  was  only  a 
few  steps  distant.  Pelle  scarcely  knew  what  happened  to  him 
after  that,  imtil  he  found  himself  back  in  the  carriage;  they 
had  to  nudge  him  every  time  he  had  to  do  anything.  He  saw 
no  one  but  Ellen. 

She  was  his  sun;  the  rest  meant  nothing  to  him.  At  the 
altar  he  had  seized  her  hand  and  held  it  in  his  during  the 
whole  service. 

Frederik  had  remained  at  home,  in  order  to  admit,  receive 
messages  and  people  who  came  to  offer  their  congratulations. 
As  they  returned  he  leaned  out  of  the  window  and  threw 
crackers  and  detonating  pellets  imder  the  horses'  feet,  as  a  sa* 
lute  to  the  bridal  pair. 

People  drank  wine,  touched  glasses  with  the  young  couple, 
and  examined  the  wedding-presents.  Stolpe  looked  to  see  the 
time ;  it  was  still  quite  early,  '^ou  must  go  for  a  bit  of  a  stroll, 
father,'*  said  Madam  Stolpe.  ''We  can't  eat  anything  for  a 
couple  of  hours  yet."  So  the  men  went  across  to  Ventegodfs 
beer-garden,  in  order  to  play  a  game  of  skittles,  while  the  women 
prepared  the  food. 

Pelle  would  rather  have  stopped  in  the  house  with  Ellen, 
but  he  must  not;  he  and  Lasse  went  together.  Lasse  had  not 
yet  properly  wished  Pelle  happiness;  he  had  waited  until  they 
should  be  alone. 

"Well,  happiness  and  all  blessings,  my  boy,"  he  said,  much 
moved,  as  he  pressed  Pelle's  hand.  'ITow  you,  too,  are  a  man 
with  a  family  and  responsibilities.  Now  don't  you  forget  that 
the  women  are  like  children.  In  serious  matters  you  mustn't 
be  too  ceremonious  with  them,  but  tell  them,  short  and  plain. 
This  is  to  be  so  I  It  goes  down  best  with  them.  If  ouce  a  man 
J[)egins  discussing  too  much  with  them,  then  they  don't  know 
which  way  they  want  to  go.  Otherwise  they  are  quite  all  right, 
and  if  s  easy  to  get  on  with  them — ^if  one  only  treats  them  well. 
I  never  found  it  any  trouble,  for  they  like  a  firm  hand  over 
them.    You've  reason  to  be  proud  of  your  parents-in-law;  they 


158  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

are  capital  people,  even  if  they  are  a  bit  proud  of  their  calling. 
And  Ellen  will  make  you  a  good  wife — ^if  I  know  anything  of 
women.  She'll  attend  to  her  own  affairs  and  she'll  understand 
how  to  save  whaf s  left  over.  Long  in  the  body  she  is,  like  a 
fruitful  cow — she  won't  fail  you  in  the  matter  of  children." 

Outdoors  in  the  beer-garden  Swedish  punch  was  served,  and 
Lasse's  spirits  began  to  rise.  He  tried  to  play  at  skittles — ^he 
had  never  done  so  before;  and  he  plucked  up  courage  to  utter 
witticisms. 

The  others  laugEed,  and  Lasse  drew  himself  up  and  came 
out  of  his  shell.  "Splendid  people,  the  Copenhageners  I"  he 
whispered  to  Pelle.  **A  ready  hand  for  spending,  and  they've 
got  a  witty  word  ready  for  everything." 

Before  any  one  noticed  it  had  grown  dark,  and  now  they 
must  be  home ! 

At  home  the  table  was  laid,  and  the  rest  of  the  guests  had 
come.  Madam  Stolpe  was  already  quite  nervous,  they  had 
stopped  away  so  long.  'TTow  we'll  all  wobble  a  bit  on  our  legs," 
whispered  Stolpe,  in,  the  entry;  "then  my  wife  will  go  for  us  I 
Well,  mother,  have  you  got  a  warm  welcome  ready  for  us?"  he 
asked,  as  he  tumbled  into  the  room. 

"Ah,  you  donkey,  do  you  think  I  don't  know  you?"  cried 
Madam  Stolpe,  laughing,  ^^o,  one  needn't  go  searching  in  the 
taverns  for  my  man  I" 

Pelle  went  straight  up  to  Ellen  in  the  kitchen  and  led  her 
away.  Hand  in  hand  they  went  round  the  rooms,  looking  at 
the  la^t  presents  to  arrive.  There  was  a  table-lamp,  a  dish-cover 
in  (German  silver,  and  some  enamelled  cooking-utensils.  Some 
one,  too,  had  sent  a  little  china  figure  of  a  child  in  swaddling- 
clothes,  but  had  forgotten  to  attach  his  name. 

Ellen  led  Pelle  out  into  the  entry,  in  order  to  embrace  him, 
but  there  stood  Morten,  taking  off  his  things.  Then  they  fled 
into  the  kitchen,  but  the  hired  cook  was  in  possession;  at  length 
they  found  an  undisturbed  haven  in  the  bedroom.  Ellen  wound 
her  arms  round  Pelle's  neck  and  gazed  at  him  in  silence,  quite 
lost  in  happiness  and  longing.  And  Pelle  pressed  the  beloved, 
slender,  girlish  body  against  his  own,  and  looked  deep  in  her 
eyes,  which  were  dark  and  shadowy  as  velvet,  as  they  drank 
in  the  light  in  his.    His  heart  swelled  within  him,  and  he  felt 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  169 

that  he  was  unspeakably  fortunate — richer  than  any  one  else  in 
the  whole  world — ^because  of  the  treasure  that  he  held  in  his 
arms.  Silently  he  vowed  to  himself  that  he  would  protect  her 
and  cherish  her  and  have  no  other  thought  than  to  make  her 
happy. 

An  impatient  trampling  sounded  from  the  other  room.  ''The 
young  couple — the  young  couple  !**  they  were  calling.  Pelle  and 
Ellen  hastened  in^  each  by  a  different  door.  The  others  were 
standing  in  their  places  at  the  table^  and  were  waiting  for  Pelle 
and  Ellen  to  take  their  seats.  ''Well^  it  isn't  difficult  to 
see  what  she's  been  about!''  said  Stolpe  teasingly.  "One 
has  only  to  look  at  the  lass's  peepers — such  a  pair  of  glowing 
coals  I" 

Otto  Stolpe,  the  slater,  was  spokesman,  and  opened  the  ban- 
quet by  offering  brandy.  '*A  drop  of  spirits,"  he  said  to  each: 
**we  must  make  sure  there's  a  vent  to  the  gutter,  or  the  whole 
thing  will  soon  get  stopped  up." 

'TTow,  take  something,  people  1"  cried  Stolpe,  from  the  head 
of  the  tal)le,  where  he  was  carving  a  loin  of  roast  pork.  'TJp 
with  the  bricks  there !"  He  had  the  young  couple  on  his  right 
and  the  newly-baked  journeyman  on  his  left.  On  the  table 
before  him  stood  a  new  bedroom  chamber  with  a  white  wooden 
cover  to  it ;  the  guests  glanced  at  it  and  smiled  at  one  another. 
''What  are  you  staring  at?"  he  asked  solemnly.  "If  you  need 
anything,  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag  1" 

"Ah,  if  s  the  tureen  there !"  said  his  brother,  the  carpenter, 
without  moving  a  muscle.  "My  wife  would  be  glad  to  borrow 
it  a  moment,  she  says." 

His  wife,  taken  aback,  started  up  and  gave  him  a  thwack  on 
the  back.  "Monster!"  she  said,  half  ashamed,  and  laughing. 
"The  men  must  always  make  a  fool  of  somebody !" 

Then  they  all  set  to,  and  for  a  while  eating  stopped  their 
mouths.  From  time  to  time  some  droll  rejnark  was  made. 
"Some  sit  and  do  th^nselves  proud,  while  others  do  the  drudg- 
ing," said  the  Vanishing  Man,  Otto's  comrade.  Which  was  to 
say  that  he  had  finished  his  pork.  "Give  him  one  in  the  mouth, 
mother !"  said  Stolpe. 

When  their  hunger  was  satisfied  the  witticisms  began  to  fly. 
Morten's  present  was  a  great  wedding-cake.    It  was  a  real  work 


160  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

of  art;  he  had  made  it  in  the  form  of  a  pyramid.  On  the  sum- 
mit stood  a  youthful  couple^  made  of  sugar^  who  held  one  an- 
other embraced^  while  behind  them  was  a  highly  glazed  repre- 
s^tation  of  the  rising  sun*  Fp  the  steps  of  the  pyramid  yarious 
other  figures  were  scrambling  to  the  top,  holding  their  arms  out- 
stretehed  toward  the  summit.  Wine  was  poured  out  when  they 
came  to  the  cake,  and  Morten  made  a  little  speech  in  Pelle's 
honor,  in  which  he  spoke  of  loyalty  toward  the  new  comrade 
whom  he  had  chosen.  Apparently  the  speech  concerned  Ellen 
only,  but  Pelle  imderstood  that  his  words  were  meant  to  be 
much  more  comprehensiye;  they  had  a  double  meaning  all  the 
time. 

'Thank  you,  Morten,"  he  said,  much  moved,  and  he  toucehd 
glasses  with  him. 

Then  Stolpe  delivered  a  speech  admonishing  the  newly- 
married  pair.  This  was  full  of  precious  conceits  and  was  re- 
ceived with  jubilation. 

*^ow  you  see  how  father  can  speak,"  said  Madam  Stolpe. 
''When  nothing  depends  on  it  then  he  can  speak  1" 

"Whafs  that  you  say,  mother?"  cried  Stolpe,  astonished. 
He  was  not  accustomed  to  criticism  from  that  source.  "Just 
listen  to  that  now-— one's  own  wife  is  beginning  to  pull  away 
the  scaffolding-poles  from  under  one  1" 

"Well,  thafs  what  I  say!"  she  rejoined,  looking  at  him 
boldly.  Her  face  was  quite  heated  with  wine.  "Does  any  one 
stand  in  the  front  of  things  like  father  does  ?  He  was  the  first, 
and  he  has  been  always  the  most  zealous;  he  has  done  a  good 
stroke  of  work,  more  than  most  men.  And  to-day  he  might  well 
have  been  one  of  the  leaders  and  have  called  the  tune,  if  it 
weren't  for  that  damned  hiccoughing.  He's  a  clever  man,  and 
his  comrades  respect  him  too,  but  what  does  all  that  signify  if  a 
man  hiccoughs?  Every  time  he  stands  on  the  speaker's  plat- 
form he  has  the  hiccoughs." 

"And  yet  it  isn't  caused  by  brandy  ?"  said  the  thick-set  little 
Vanishing  Man,  Albert  Olsen. 

"Oh,  no,  father  has  never  gone  in  for  bottle  agitation,"  re- 
plied Madam  Stolpe. 

"That  was  a  fine  speech  that  mother  made  about  me,"  said 
Stolpe,  laughing,  "and  she  didn't  hiccough.    It  is  astonishing, 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  161 

fhough — ^ihere  are  some  people  who  can't.  But  now  it's  your 
tuTDy  Frederik*  Now  you  have  become  a  journeyman  and  must 
accept  the  responsibility  yourself  for  doing  things  according  to 
plumb-line  and  square.  We  have  worked  on  the  scaffold  to- 
gether and  we  know  one  another  pretty  well.  Many  a  time 
you've  been  a  clown  and  many  a  time  a  sheep,  and  a  box  on  the 
ears  from  your  old  man  has  never  been  lacking.  But  that  was 
in  your  fledgling  years.  When  only  you  made  up  your  mind 
there  was  no  fault  to  be  found  with  you.  I  will  say  this  to  your 
credit — ^that  you  know  your  trade — you  needn't  be  shamed  by 
anybody.  Show  what  you  can  do,  my  ladl  Do  your  day's 
work  so  that  your  comrades  don't  need  to  take  you  in  tow,  and 
never  shirk  when  it  comes  to  your  turn  1" 

'T>on't  cheat  the  drinker  of  his  bottle,  either,'^  said  Albert 
Olsen,  interrupting.    Otto  nudged  him  in  the  ribs. 

**No,  don't  do  that,"  said  Stolpe,  and  he  laughed.  *T?here 
are  still  two  things,"  he  added  seriously.  ''Take  care  the  girls 
don't  get  running  about  under  the  scaffold  in  working  hours, 
that  doesn't  look  well;  and  always  uphold  the  fellowship. 
There  is  nothing  more  despicable  than  the  name  of  strike- 
breaker." 

'THear,  hearl"  resounded  about  the  table.    ''A  true  word!" 

Frederik  sat  listening  with  an  embarrassed  smile. 

He  was  dressed  in  a  new  suit  of  the  white  clothes  of  his 
calling,  and  on  his  round  chin  grew  a  few  dark  downy  hairs, 
which  he  fingered  every  other  moment.  He  was  waiting  ex- 
citedly until  the  old  man  had  finished,  so  that  he  might  drink 
brotherhood  with  him. 

"And  now,  my  lad,"  said  Stolpe,  taking  the  cover  from  the 
*Hureen,"  ''now  you  are  admitted  to  the  corporation  of  masons, 
and  you  are  welcome!  Health,  my  lad."  And  with  a  sly 
little  twinkle  of  his  eye,  he  set  the  utensil  to  his  mouth,  and 
drank. 

"Health,  father!"  replied  Frederik,  with  shining  eyes,  as  his 
father  passed  him  the  drinking-bowL  Then  it  went  round  the 
table.  The  women  shrieked  before  they  drank;  it  was  full  of 
Bavarian  beer,  and  in  the  amber  fluid  swam  Bavarian  sausages. 
And  while  the  drinking-bowl  made  its  cheerful  round,  Stolpe 
struck  up  with  the  Song  of  the  Mason: 


162  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

«<The  man  up  there  in  snowy  cap  and  blouse, 
He  is  a  mason,  any  fool  could  fiwear. 
Just  give  him  stone  and  lime,  hell  build  a  house 
Fine  as  a  palace,  up  in  emp^  air! 
Down  in  the  street  below  stands  half  the  town: 
Ah,  ah  I    Na,  na! 
The  scaffold  sways,  but  it  won't  fall  down! 

'Down  in  the  street  he's  wobbly  in  his  tread. 
He  tumbles  into  every  cellar  door; 
That's  'cause  his  home  is  in  the  clouds  o'erhead. 
Where  all  the  little  birds  about  him  soar. 
Up  there  he  works  away  with  peaceful  mind: 
Ah,  ah.    Na,  na! 
The  scaffold  swings  in  the  boisterous  wind! 

'*What  it  is  to  be  giddy  no  mason  knows: 
Left  to  himself  he'd  build  for  ever. 
Stone  upon  stone,  till  in  Heaven,  I  s'pose! 
But  up  comes  the  Law,  and  says — Stop  now,  clever! 
There  lives  the  Almighty,  so  Just  come  off ! 
Ah,  ah!    Na,  na! 
Sheer  slavery  this,  but  he  lets  them  scoff! 

^'Before  he  knows  it  the  work  has  passed: 
He  measures  all  over  and  reckons  it  up. 
His  wages  are  safe  in  his  breeches  at  last, 
And  he  clatters  off  home  ta  rest  and  to  sup. 
And  a  goodly  wage  he's  got  in  his  pocket: 
Ah,  ah!    Na,  na! 
The  scaffold  creaks  to  the  winds  that  rock  it !" 

The  little  thick-set  slater  sat  with  both  arms  on  the  table^ 
staring  right  in  front  of  him  with  veiled  eyes.  When  the  song 
was  over  he  raised  his  head  a  little.  'HTeSy  that  may  be  all  very 
fine — ^for  those  it  concerns.  But  the  slater,  he  climbs  higher 
than  the  mason.''    His  face  was  purple. 

^'Now,  comrade,  let  well  alone/*  said  Stolpe  comfortably. 
^?t  isn't  the  question,  to-night,  who  climbs  highest,  ifs  a  ques- 
tion of  amusing  ourselves  merely." 

'?es,  that  may  be,"  replied  Olsen,  letting  his  head  sink 
again,  ^^ut  the  slater,  he  climbs  the  highest."  After  which  he 
sat  there  murmuring  to  himself. 

"Just  leave  him  alone,"  whispered  Otto.  '^Otherwise  heTl 
get  in  one  of  his  Berserker  rages.  Don't  be  so  grumpy,  old  fel- 
low," he  said,  laying  his  arm  on  Olsen's  shoulders,  ^^o  one 
can  compete  with  you  in  the  art  of  tumbling  down,  anyhow  1" 


THE   GREAT   STEUGGLE  163 

The  Yanishing  Man  was  so  called  because  he  was  in  the 
habit — ^while  lying  quite  quietly  on  the  roof  at  work — of  sud- 
denly sliding  downward  and  disappearing  into  the  street  be- 
low. He  had  several  times  fallen  from  the  roof  of  a  house  with- 
out coming  to  any  harm;  but  on  one  occasion  he  had  broken 
both  legs,  and  had  become  visibly  bow-legged  in  consequence. 
In  order  to  appease  him.  Otto,  who  was  his  comrade,  related 
how  he  had  fallen  down  on  the  last  occasion. 

''We  were  lying  on  the  roof,  working  away,  he  and  I,  and 
damned  cold  it  was.  He,  of  course,  had  imtied  the  safety-rope, 
and  as  we  were  lying  there  quite  comfortably  and  chatting,  all  of 
a  sudden  he  was  off.  TTie  devil !'  I  shouted  to  the  others,  'now 
the  Vanishing  Man  has  fallen  down  again !'  And  we  ran  down 
the  stairs  as  quick  as  we  could.  We  weren't  in  a  htmior  for 
any  fool's  tricks,  as  you  may  suppose.  But  there  was  no  Albert 
Olsen  lying  on  the  pavement.  'Damn  and  blast  it  all,  where 
has  the  Yanisher  got  to?'  we  said,  and  we  stared  at  one  another, 
stupefied.  And  then  I  accidentally  glanced  across  at  a  beer- 
cellar  opposite,  and  there,  by  Gk)d,  he  was  sitting  at  the  base- 
ment window,  winking  at  us  so,  with  his  forefinger  to  his  nose, 
making  signs  to  us  to  go  down  and  have  a  glass  of  beer  with 
him.  1  was  so  accursedly  thirsty,'  was  all  he  said;  1  couldn't 
wait  to  run  down  the  stairs  1' " 

The  general  laughter  appeased  the  Yanishing  Man.  "Wholl 
give  me  a  glass  of  beer  ?"  he  said,  rising  with  diffictdty.  He  got 
his  beer  and  sat  down  in  a  comer. 

Stolpe  was  sitting  at  the  table  playing  with  his  canary,  which 
had  to  partake  of  its  share  in  the  feast.  The  bird  sat  on  his 
red  ear  and  fixed  its  claws  in  his  hair,  then  hopped  onto  his  arm 
and  along  it  onto  the  table.  Stolpe  kept  on  asking  it,  "What 
would  you  like  to  smoke,  Hansie  ?"  'Teep  1"  replied  the  canary, 
every  time.    Then  they  all  laughed.    "Hansie  would  like  a  pipe !" 

"How  clever  he  is,  to  answer  like  that !"  said  the  women. 

"Clever? — ay,  and  he's  sly  too!  Once  we  bought  a  little 
wife  for  him;  mother  didn't  think  it  fair  that  he  shouldn't 
know  what  love  is.  Well,  they  married  themselves  very  nicely, 
and  the  little  wife  lay  two  eggs.  But  when  she  wanted  to  begin 
to  sit  Hansie  got  sulky ;  he  kept  on  calling  to  her  to  come  out 
on  the  perch.    Well,  she  wouldn't,  and  one  fine  day,  when  she 


164  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOR 

wanted  to  get  something  to  eat,  he  hopped  in  and  tiirew  fhe 
eggs  out  between  the  bars !  He  was  jealous — ^the  rascal !  Yes,  an- 
imals are  wonderfully  clever — stupendous  it  is,  that  such  a  little 
thing  as  that  could  think  that  out  1    Now,  now,  just  look  at  him  I'' 

Hansie  had  hopped  onto  the  table  and  had  made  his  way  to 
the  remainder  of  the  cake.  He  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the 
dish,  cheerfully  flirting  his  tail  as  he  pecked  away.  Suddenly 
something  fell  upon  the  table-cloth,  '^rd  bless  me,''  cried 
Stolpe,  in  consternation,  ''if  that  had  been  any  one  else! 
Wouldn't  you  have  heard  mother  carry  on  1" 

Old  Lasse  was  near  exploding  at  this.  "Hp  had  never  before 
been  in  such  pleasant  company.  'It's  just  as  if  one  had  come 
upon  a  dozen  of  Brother  Kalle's  sort,"  he  whispered  to  Pelle. 
Pelle  smiled  absently.  Ellen  was  holding  his  hand  in  her  lap 
and  playing  with  his  fingers. 

A  telegram  of  congratulation  came  for  Pelle  from  Mb  Union, 
and  this  brought  the  conversation  back  to  more  serious  matters. 
Morten  and  Stolpe  became  involved  in  a  dispute  concerning  the 
labor  movement;  Morten  considered  that  they  did  not  suffi- 
ciently consider  the  individual,  but  attached  too  much  impor- 
tance to  the  voice  of  the  masses.  In  his  opinion  the  revolution 
must  come  from  within. 

'TN'o,"  said  Stolpe,  "that  leads  to  nothing.  But  if  we  could 
get  our  comrades  into  Parliament  and  obtain  a  majority,  then 
we  should  build  up  the  State  according  to  our  own  programme, 
and  that  is  in  every  respect  a  legal  one !" 

"Yes,  but  if  s  a  question  of  daily  bread,"  said  Morten,  with 
energy.  "Hungry  people  can't  sit  down  and  try  to  become  a 
majority;  while  the  grass  grows  the  cow  starves!  They  ought 
to  help  themselves.  If  they  do  not,  their  self -consciousness  is 
imperfect;  they  must  wake  up  to  the  consciousness  of  their  own 
human  value.  If  there  were  a  law  forbidding  the  poor  man  to 
breathe  the  air,  do  you  think  he'd  stop  doing  so?  He  simply 
could  not.  It's  painful  for  him  to  look  on  at  others  eating  when 
he  gets  nothing  himself.  He  is  wanting  in  physical  courage. 
And  so  society  profits  by  his  disadvantage.  What  has  the  poor 
man  to  do  with  the  law  ?  He  stands  outside  all  that !  A  man 
mustn't  starve  his  horse  or  his  dog,  but  the  State  which  forbids 
him  to  do  so  starves  its  own  workers.    I  believe  they'll  have  to 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  166 

pay  for  pTeaching  obedience  to  the  poor;  we  are  getting  bad 
material  for  the  now  order  of  society  that  we  hope  to  found 
some  day/' 

^TTes,  but  we  don't  obey  the  laws  out  of  respect  for  the 
commands  of  a  capitalist  society/'  said  Stolpe^  somewhat  xm- 
certainly^  '1)nt  out  of  regard  for  ourselves.  God  pity  the  poor 
man  if  he  takes  the  law  into  his  own  hands !" 

'^Still,  it  keeps  the  wound  fresh  I  As  for  all  the  others,  who 
go  hungry  in  silence,  what  do  they  do?  There  are  too  few  of 
them,  alas — ^there's  room  in  the  prisons  for  them !  But  if  every 
one  who  was  hungry  would  stick  his  arm  through  a  shop  window 
and  help  himself — ^then  the  question  of  maintenance  would 
soon  be  solved.  They  couldn't  put  the  whole  nation  in  prison  I 
Now,  hunger  is  yet  another  htmian  virtue,  which  is  often  prac- 
tised until  men  die  of  it — ^for  the  profit  of  those  who  hoard 
wealth.  They  pat  the  poor,  brave  man  on  the  back  because 
he's  so  obedient  to  the  law.    What  more  can  he  want?" 

'TTes,  devil  take  it,  of  course  if  s  ail  topsy-turvy,"  replied 

Stolpe.    '*But  thaf  s  precisely  the  reason  why No,  no,  you 

won't  persuade  me,  my  young  friend !  Tou  seem  to  me  a  good 
deal  too  *red.'  It  wouldn't  do  I  Now  I've  been  concerned  in 
the  mov^nent  from  the  very  first  day,  and  no  one  can  say  that 
Stolpe  is  afraid  to  risk  his  skin;  but  that  way  wouldn't  suit 
me.  We  have  always  held  to  the  same  course,  and  everything 
that  we  have  won  we  have  taken  on  account." 

'TTes,  thafs  true,"  interrupted  Frau  Stolpe.  '*When  I  look 
back  to  those  early  years  and  then  consider  these  I  can  scarcely 
believe  if s  true.  Then  it  was  all  we  could  do  to  find  safe 
shelter,  even  among  people  of  our  own  standing;  they  annoyed 
us  in  every  possible  way,  and  hated  father  because  he  wasn't 
such  a  sheep  as  they  were,  but  used  to  concern  himself  about 
their  affairs.  Every  time  I  went  out  of  the  kitchen  door  I'd 
find  a  filthy  rag  of  dishcloth  hung  over  the  handle,  and  they 
smeared  much  worse  things  than  that  over  the  door — and  whose 
doing  was  it?  I  never  told  father;  he  would  have  been  so  en- 
raged he  would  have  torn  the  whole  house  down  to  find  the 
gv^ty  person.  No,  father  had  enough  to  contend  against  al- 
ready. But  now :  'Ah,  here  comes  Stolpe — Hurrah  f  Long  live 
Stolpe  t    One  must  show  respect  to  Stolpe,  the  veteran  I' " 


166  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

'TPhat  may  be  all  very  fine/*  muttered  Albert  Olsen,  *1)ut  the 
slater,  he  climbs  the  highest/*  He  was  sitting  with  sunken  head, 
staring  angrily  before  him. 

**To  be  sure  he  climbs  highest,**  said  the  women.  'TTo  one 
says  he  doesn't.** 

'Tjeave  him  alone,**  said  Otto;  'Tie*s  had  a  drop  too  much!** 

'Then  he  should  take  a  walk  in  the  fresh  air  and  not  sit 
there  and  make  himself  disagreeable^ *  said  Madam  Stolpe,  with 
a  good  deal  of  temper. 

The  Vanishing  Man  rose  with  an  effort.  ''Do  you  say  a 
walk  in  the  fresh  air.  Madam  Stolpe?  Yes,  if  any  one  can  stand 
the  air,  by  Gk)d,  it*s  Albert  Olsen.  Those  big-nosed  masons, 
what  can  they  do  ?**  He  stood  with  bent  head,  muttering  angrily 
to  himself.  'Tes,  then  we'll  take  a  walk  in  the  fresh  air.  1 
don*t  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with  your  fools*  tricks.**  He 
staggered  out  through  the  kitchen  door. 

''What*s  he  going  to  do  there?**  cried  Madam  Stolpe,  in 
alarm. 

"Oh,  he*ll  just  go  down  into  the  yard  and  turn  himself 
inside  out,**  said  Otto.  "He*s  a  brilliant  fellow,  but  he  can*t 
carry  much.** 

PeU;,  stiU  sitting  at  table,  had  been  drawing  with  a  pencil 
on  a  scrap  of  paper  while  the  others  were  arguing.  EUen  leaned 
over  his  shoulder  watching  him.  He  felt  her  warm  breath  upon 
his  ear  and  smiled  happily  as  he  used  his  pencil.  Ellen  took 
the  drawing  when  he  had  finished  and  pushed  it  across  the 
table  to  the  others.  It  showed  a  thick-set  figure  of  a  man, 
dripping  with  sweat,  pushing  a  wheelbarrow  which  supported 
his  belly.  "Capitalism — ^when  the  rest  of  us  refuse  to  serve 
him  any  longer!**  was  writtto  below.  This  drawing  made  a 
great  sensation.  'Trou*re  a  deuce  of  a  chap!**  cried  Stolpe. 
'1*11  send  that  to  the  editor  of  the  humorous  page — ^I  know 
him.** 

"Tes,  Pelle,**  said  Lasse  proudly,  "there*s  nothing  he  can*t 
do;  devil  knows  where  he  gets  it  from,  for  he  doe6n*t  get  it 
from  his  father.**    And  they  all  laughed. 

Carpenter  Stolpe*s  good  lady  sat  considering  the  drawing 
with  amazement,  quite  bewildered,  looking  first  at  Pelle*s  fingers 
and  then  at  the  drawing  again.    "I  can  imderstand  how  people 


THE   GREAT   STRTTGGLE  167 

can  say  funny  things  with  their  months/*  she  said,  '^bnt  with 
their  fingers — ^that  I  don't  understand.  Poor  fellow,  obliged  to 
push  his  belly  in  front  of  him  I  It's  almost  worse  than  when  I 
was  going  to  have  Victor/* 

"Cousin  Victor,  her  youngest,  who  is  so  deucedly  clever,*' 
said  Otto,  in  explanation,  giving  Pelle  a  meaning  wink. 

'Tes,  indeed  he  is  clever,  if  he  is  only  six  months  old.  The 
other  day  I  took  him  downstairs  with  me  when  I  went  to  buy 
some  miUc*  Since  then  he  won't  accept  his  mother's  left  breast 
any  more.  The  rascal  noticed  that  the  milkman  drew  skim 
milk  from  the  left  side  of  the  cart  and  full-cream  milk  from 
the  tap  on  the  right  side.    And  another  time ^" 

**Now,  mother,  give  over!"  said  Carpenter  Stolpe;  ''don't 
you  see  thejr're  sitting  laughing  at  you?  And  we  ought  to  see 
about  getting  home  presently."   He  looked  a  trifle  injured. 

''What,  are  you  going  already?"  said  Stolpe.  "Why,  bless 
my  soul,  it's  quite  late  already.  But  we  must  have  another 
8ong  first." 

"Ifll  be  daylight  soon,"  said  Madam  Stolpe;  she  was  so  tired 
that  she  was  nodding. 

When  they  had  sung  the  Socialist  marching  song,  the  party 
broke  up.  Lasse  had  his  pockets  filled  with  sweets  for  the  three 
orphans. 

"What's  become  of  the  Vanishing  Man?"  said  Otto  sud- 
denly. 

"Perhaps  he's  been  taken  bad  down  in  the  yard,"  said 
Stolpe.  "Bun  down  and  see,  Frederick."  They  had  quite  for- 
gotten him. 

Frederik  returned  and  announced  that  Albert  Olsen  was  not 
in  the  yard — and  the  gate  was  locked. 

"Surely  he  can't  have  gone  on  the  roof?"  said  one.  They 
ran  up  the  back  stairs;  the  door  of  the  loft  was  open,  and  the 
skylight  also. 

Otto  threw  off  his  coat  and  swung  himself  up  through  the 
opening.  On  the  extreme  end  of  the  ridge  of  the  roof  sat  Albert 
Olsen,  snoring. 

He  was  leaning  against  the  edge  of  the  party-wall,  which 
projected  upward  about  eighteen  inches.  Close  behind  him  was 
empty  space. 


168  PELLE   THE    CONQUEROR 

'Tor  Gk>d'8  sake  don't  call  him/'  said  Mother  Stolpe,  under 
her  breath;  ''and  catch  hold  of  him  before  he  wakes." 

But  Otto  went  straight  up  to  his  comrade.  "Hnllo^  mate! 
Time's  up  1"  he  cried. 

"Righto!''  said  the  Yanisher,  and  he  rose  to  his  feet.  He 
stood  there  a  moment,  swaying  above  the  abyss,  then,  giving 
the  preference  to  the  way  leading  over  the  roof,  he  followed  in 
Otto's  track  and  crept  through  the  window. 

''What  the  dickens  were  you  really  doing  there?"  asked 
Stolpe,  laughing.    "Have  you  been  to  work?" 

"I  just  went- up  there  and  enjoyed  the  fresh  air  a  bit  Have 
you  got  a  bottle  of  beer?  But  whafs  this?  Everybody  going 
home  already?" 

"Yes,  you've  been  two  hours  sitting  up  there  and  squinting 
at  the  stars,"  replied  Otto. 

Now  all  the  guests  had  gone.  Lasse  and  the  young  couple 
stood  waiting  to  say  farewell.  Madam  Stolpe  had  tears  in  her 
eyes.  She  threw  her  arms  round  Ellen.  "Take  good  care  of 
yourself,  the  night  is  so  cold,"  she  said,  in  a  choking  voice,  and 
she  stood  nodding  after  them  with  eyes  that  were  blinded  with 
tears. 

"Why,  but  there's  nothing  to  cry  about  I"  said  Mason  Stolpe, 
as  he  led  her  indoors.  "Go  to  bed  now — 111  soon  sing  the  Van- 
ishing Man  to  sleep  1    Thank  God  for  to-day,  mother  1" 


XVI 

Pellb  had  placed  his  work-bench  against  the  wall-space  be- 
tween the  two  windows  of  the  living-room.  There  was  just 
room  to  squeeze  past  between  the  edge  of  the  bench  and  the 
round  table  which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Against  the 
wall  by  the  door  stood  an  oak-stained  sideboard^  which  was 
Ellen's  pride^  and  exactly  opposite  this^  on  the  opposing  wall, 
stood  the  chest  of  draweft  of  her  girlhood,  with  a  mirror  above 
it  and  a  white  embroidered  cover  on  the  top.  On  this  chest  of 
drawers  stood  a  polished  wooden  workbox,  a  few  photographs, 
and  various  knick-knacks ;  with  its  white  cover  it  was  like  a  little 
altar. 

Pelle  went  to  Master  Beck's  only  every  other  day;  the  rest 
of  the  time  he  sat  at  home  playing  the  little  master.  He  had 
many  acquaintances  hereabouts,  really  poor  folks,  who  wore 
their  boots  until  their  stockings  appeared  before  they  had  them 
repaired ;  nevertheless,  it  was  possible  to  earn  a  day's  pay  among 
them.  He  obtained  work,  too,  from  Ellen's  fanaily  and  their 
acquaintances.  These  were  people  of  another  sort;  even  when 
thhigs  went  badly  with  them  they  always  kept  up  appearances 
and  even  displayed  a  certain  amount  of  luxury.  They  kept  their 
troubles  to  themselves. 

He  could  have  obtained  plenty  of  journeyman  work,  but  he 
preferred  this  arrangement,  which  laid  the  f oimdation  of  a  cer- 
tain independence;  there  was  more  chance  of  a  future  in  it. 
And  there  was  a  peculiar  feeling  about  work  done  with  his  home 
as  the  background.  When  he  lifted  his  eyes  from  his  work  as 
he  sat  at  home  a  fruitful  warmth  came  into  his  heart;  things 
looked  so  familiar;  they  radiated  comfort,  as  though  they  had 
always  belonged  together.  And  when  the  morning  sun  shone 
into  the  room  everything  wore  a  smile,  and  in  the  midst  of  it 

169 


170  PELLE   THE    CONQUEROR 

all  Ellen  moved  busily  to  and  fro  humming  a  tune.  She  felt 
a  need  always  to  be  near  him,  and  rejoiced  over  every  day 
which  he  spent  at  home.  On  those  days  she  hurried  through  her 
work  in  the  kitchen  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  then  sat  down 
to  keep  him  company.  He  had  to  teach  her  how  to  make  a 
patch,  and  how  to  sew  a  sole  on,  and  she  helped  him  with  his 
work. 

**Now  you  are  the  master  and  I'm  the  journeyman  P'  she 
would  say  delightedly.  She  brought  him  customers  too;  her 
ambition  was  to  keep  him  always  at  home.  'TU  help  you  all  I 
can.  And  one  fine  day  youll  have  so  much  work  you'll  have  to 
take  an  apprentice — and  then  a  journeyman.''  Then  he  would 
take  her  in  his  arms,  and  they  worked  in  emulation,  and  sang 
as  they  worked. 

Pelle  was  perfectly  happy,  and  had  cast  off  all  his  cares  and 
burdens.  This  was  his  nest,  where  every  stick  and  stone  was 
worth  more  than  all  else  in  the  world  besides.  They  had  their 
work  cut  out  to  keep  it  together  and  feed  themselves  a  little 
daintily;  and  Pelle  tackled  his  work  as  joyfully  as  though  he 
had  at  last  found  his  true  vocation.  Now  and  again  a  heavy 
wave  came  rolling  up  from  the  struggling  masses,  making  his 
heart  beat  violently,  and  then  he  would  break  out  into  fiery 
speech;  or  his  happiness  would  weave  radiant  pictures  before 
his  eyes,  and  he  would  describe  these  to  Ellen.  She  listened 
to  him  proudly,  and  with  her  beloved  eyes  upon  him  he  would 
venture  upon  stronger  expression  and  more  vivid  pictures,  as 
was  really  natural  to  him.  When  at  last  he  was  silent  she 
would  remain  quietly  gazing  at  him  with  those  dark  eyes  of  hers 
that  always  seemed  to  be  looking  at  something  in  him  of  which 
he  himself  was  unaware. 

''What  are  you  thinking  of  now?"  Pelle  would  ask,  for  he 
would  have  enjoyed  an  exposition  of  the  ideas  that  filled  his 
mind.  There  was  no  one  for  him  but  Ellen,  and  he  wanted 
to  discuss  the  new  ideas  with  her,  and  to  feel  the  wonderful 
happiness  of  sharing  these  too  with  her. 

'1  was  thinking  how  red  your  lips  are  when  you  speak! 
They  certainly  want  to  be  kissed  1"  she  replied,  throwing  her 
arms  round  his  neck. 

What  happened  roxmd  about  her  did  not  interest  her;  she 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  171 

could  only  speak  of  their  love  and  of  what  concerned  herself. 
But  the  passionate  gaze  of  her  eyes  was  like  a  deep  background 
to  tiieir  Uf e.  It  had  quite  a  mysterious  effect  upon  his  mind ;  it 
was  like  a  lure  that  called  to  the  unknown  depths  of  Ids  being. 
'The  Pelle  she  sees  must  be  different  to  the  one  I  know/^  he 
thought  happily.  There  must  be  something  fine  and  strong 
in  him  for  her  to  cling  to  him  so  closely  and  suffer  so  when 
parted  from  him  only  for  a  moment.  Wlien  she  had  gazed  at 
him  long  enough  she  would  press  herself  against  him^  confused, 
and  hide  her  face. 

Without  his  remarking  it,  she  directed  his  energies  back  to 
his  own  calling.  He  could  work  for  two  when  she  sat  at  the 
bench  facing  him  and  talked  to  him  as  she  helped  him.  Pelle 
really  found  their  little' nest  quite  comfortable,  but  Ellen's  mind 
was  full  of  plans  for  improvement  and  progress.  His  business 
was  to  support  a  respectable  home  with  dainty  furniture  and  all 
sorts  of  other  things ;  she  was  counting  on  these  already.  This 
home,  which  to  him  was  like  a  beloved  face'  that  one  cannot 
imagine  other  than  it  is,  was  to  her  only  a  temporary  affair, 
which  would  by  degrees  be  replaced  by  something  finer  and 
better.  Behind  her  itimate  gossip  of  every-day  trivialities  she 
concealed  a  far-reaching  ambition.  He  must  do  his  utmost  if 
he  was  to  accomplish  all  she  expected  of  him ! 

Ellen  by  no  means  neglected  her  housekeeping,  and  nothing 
ever  slipped  through  her  fingers.  When  Pelle  was  away  at  the 
workshop  she  turned  the  whole  place  upside  down,  sweeping 
and  scrubbing,  and  had  always  something  good  on  the  table 
for  him.  In  tiie  evening  she  was  waiting  for  him  at  the  door 
of  the  workshop.  Then  they  would  take  a  stroll  along  the 
canal,  and  across  the  green  rampart  where  the  children  played. 
'*0h,  Pelle,  how  I've  longed  for  you  to-day!'*  she  would 
say  haltingly.  'TTow,  IVe  got  you,  and  yet  I've  still  got 
quite  a  pain  in  my  breasts;  they  don't  know  yet  that  you're 
with  me  I" 

^Shan't  we  work  a  little  this  evening — ^just  a  quarter  of  an 
hour?"  she  would  say,  when  they  had  eaten,  ''so  that  you  can 
become  a  master  all  the  sooner  and  make  things  more  comfort- 
able for  yourself."  Pelle  perhaps  would  rather  have  taken  a 
walk  through  the  city  with  her,  or  have  gone  somewhere  where 


172  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

they  could  enjoy  the  sunset,  but  her  dark  eyes  fixed  themselyes 
upon  him* 

She  was  full  of  energy  from  top  to  toe,  and  it  was  all  cen- 
tered on  him.  There  was  something  in  her  nature  that  excluded 
the  possibility  of  selfishness.  In  relation  to  herself,  everything 
was  indifferent ;  she  only  wanted  to  be  with  him — and  to  live  for 
him.  She  was  beneficent  and  intact  as  virgin  soil;  Pelle  had 
awakened  love  in  her — ^and  it  took  the  shape  of  a  perpetual  need 
of  giving.  He  felt,  humbly,  that  she  brought  all  she  had  and 
was  to  him  as  a  gift,  and  all  he  did  was  done  to  repay  her 
generosity. 

He  had  refused  to  undertake  the  direction  of  the  labor  or- 
ganization. His  life  together  with  Ellen  and  the  maintenance 
of  the  newly  established  household  left  him  no  time  for  any 
effectual  efforts  outside  his  home.  Ellen  did  not  interfere  in  the 
matter;  but  when  he  came  home  after  spending  the  evening  at  a 
meeting  he  could  see  she  had  been  crying.  So  he  stopped  at 
home  with  her;  it  was  weak  of  him,  but  he  did  not  see  what 
else  he  could  do.  And  he  missed  nothing;  Ellen  more  than 
made  amends.  She  knew  how  to  make  their  little  home  close 
itself  about  him,  how  to  turn  it  into  a  world  of  exuberant  inner 
life.  There  was  no  greater  pleasure  than  to  set  themselves  to 
achieve  some  magnificent  object — as,  for  instance,  to  buy  a 
china  flower-pot,  which  could  stand  on  the  window-sill  and  con- 
tain an  aspedistra.  That  meant  a  week  of  saving,  and  when 
they  had  got  it  they  would  cross  over  to  the  other  side  of  the 
canal,  arm  in  arm,  and  look  up  at  the  window  in  order  to  see 
the  effect.  And  then  something  else  would  be  needed;  a  per- 
forating machine,  an  engraved  nameplate  for  the  door;  every 
Saturday  meant  some  fresh  acquisition. 

The  Working  Mark  lay  unread.  If  Pelle  laid  down  his  work 
a  moment  in  order  to  glance  at  it,  there  was  Ellen  nipping  his 
ear  with  her  lips;  his  free  time  belonged  to  her,  and  it  was  a 
glorious  distraction  in  work-time,  to  frolic  as  carelessly  as  a 
couple  of  puppies,  far  more  delightful  than  shouldering  the 
burden  of  the  servitude  of  the  masses !  So  the  paper  was  given 
up ;  EUen  received  the  money  every  week  for  her  savings-bank. 
She  had  discovered  a  comer  in  Market  Street  where  she  wanted 
to  set  up  a  shop  and  work-room  with  three  or  four  assistants — 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  173 

that  was  what  she  was  saving  for.  Pelle  wondered  at  her  sa- 
gacity^ for  that  was  a  good  neighborhood. 

After  their  marriage  they  did  not  visit  Ellen's  parents  so 
often.  Stolpe  f onnd  Pelle  was  cooling  down^  and  t&sed  to  tease 
him  a  little^  in  order  to  make  him  answer  the  helm;  bnt  that 
angered  Ellen^  and  resulted  in  explosions — she  would  tolerate 
no  criticism  of  Pelle.  She  went  to  see  them  only  when  Pelle 
proposed  it;  she  herself  seemed  to  feel  no  desire  to  see  her 
family^  bnt  preferred  staying  at  home.  Often  they  pretended 
they  were  not  at  home  when  ''the  family''  knocked^  in  order 
to  go  ont  alone^  to  the  Zoological  Oardens  or  to  Lyngby. 

They  did  not  see  much  of  Lasse.  Ellen  had  invited  him  once 
for  all  to  eat  his  supper  with  them.  But  when  he  came  home 
from  work  he  was  too  tired  to  change  his  clothes,  and  wash 
himself,  and  make  himself  tidy,  and  Ellen  was  particular  about 
her  little  home.  He  had  a  great  respect  for  her,  but  did  not 
feel  properly  at  home  in  her  living-room. 

He  had  taken  Pelle's  old  room,  and  was  boarding  with  ilie 
three  orphans.  They  thought  great  things  of  him,  and  all  their 
queer  care  for  the  big  foundling  Pelle  was  now  transferred  to 
old  Lasse.  And  here  they  fell  on  better  soil.  Lasse  was  be- 
coming a  child  again,  and  had  felt  the  need  of  a  little  pamper- 
ing. With  devout  attention  he  would  listen  to  Marie's  little 
troubles,  and  the  boy's  narrations  of  everything  that  they  did 
and  saw.  In  return  he  told  them  the  adventures  of  his  boy- 
hood, or  related  his  experiences  in  the  stone-breaking  yard, 
swaggering  suitebly,  in  order  not  to  be  outdone.  When  Pelle 
came  to  f efoh  his  father  the  four  of  them  would  be  sitting  down 
to  some  childish  game.  They  would  wrangle  as  to  how  the  game 
should  be  played,  for  Lasse  was  the  most  skilfuL  The  old  man 
would  excuse  himself. 

'TTou  mustn't  be  angry,  lad,  because  I  neglect  you — but  I'm 
tired  of  an  evening  and  I  go  to  bed  early." 

''Then  come  on  Sunday — and  breakfast  with  us;  after- 
ward we  go  out.** 

"No,  I've  something  on  for  Sunday — an  assignation,"  said 
Lasse  rougishly,  in  order  to  obviate  further  questions.  "Enjoy 
your  youthful  happiness ;  it  won't  last  forever." 

He  would  never  accept  help.    "I  earn  what  I  need  for  my 


174  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

food  and  a  few  clothes;  I  don't  need  much  of  either,  and  I  am 
qnite  contented.  And  yonVe  enough  to  see  to  yourself/'  was 
his  constant  answer. 

Lasse  was  always  gentle  and  amiable^  and  appeared  con- 
tented, but  there  was  a  curious  veil  over  his  eyes,  as  though 
some  disappointment  were  gnawing  at  his  heart 

And  Pelle  knew  well  what  it  was — ^it  had  always  been  an 
understood  thing  fhat  Lasse  should  spend  his  old  age  at  Pelle's 
fireside.  In  his  childish  dreams  of  the  future,  however  vari- 
ous they  might  be.  Father  Lasse  was  always  at  hand,  enjoying 
a  restful  old  age,  in  return  for  all  he  had  done  for  PeUe. 

That  was  how  it  should  be;  at  home  in  the  country  in  every 
poor  home  a  gray-headed  old  man  sat  in  the  chimney-comer — 
for  children  among  the  poor  are  the  only  comfort  of  age. 

For  the  time  being  this  could  not  be  arranged;  there  was 
no  room  in  their  two  little  rooms.  Ellen  was  by  no  means 
lacking  in  heart;  she  often  thought  of  this  or  that  for  the  old 
man's  comfort,  but  her  passionate  love  would  permit  of  no 
third  person  to  approach  them  too  closely.  Such  a  thing  had 
never  entered  her  mind;  and  Pelle  felt  that  if  he  were  to  per- 
suade her  to  take  Father  Lasse  into  their  home,  the  wonder 
of  their  life  together  would  be  killed.  They  lived  so  fully  from 
hour  to  hour;  theirs  was  a  sacred  happiness,  that  must  not  be 
sacrificed,  but  which  itself  demanded  the  sacrifice  of  all  else. 
Their  relation  was  not  the  usual  practical  self-love,  but  love 
itself,  which  seldom  touches  the  every-day  life  of  the  poor,  save 
that  they  hear  it  in  tragic  and  beautiful  songs  of  unhappy 
lovers.  But  here,  to  them,  had  come  its  very  self — a  shining 
wonder ! 

And  now  Ellen  was  going  to  bear  a  child.  Her  figure  grew 
fuller  and  softer.  Toward  all  others  she  was  cold  and  remote 
in  her  behavior ;  only  to  Pelle  she  disclosed  herself  utterly.  The 
slight  reserve  which  had  always  lurked  somewhere  within  her, 
as  though  there  was  something  that  he  could  not  yet  conquer, 
had  disappeared.  Her  gaze  was  no  longer  fixed  and  searching; 
but  sought  his  own  with  quiet  self-surrender.  A  tender  and 
wonderful  harmony  was  visible  in  her,  as  though  she  had  now 
come  into  her  own,  and  from  day  to  day  she  grew  more 
beautiful. 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  175 

Pelle  was  filled  with  pride  to  see  how  Ituniriantly  she  un- 
folded beneath  his  caresses.  He  was  consdons  of  a  sense  of 
inexhaustible  liberality,  such  as  the  earth  had  suddenly  in- 
spired in  him  at  times  in  his  childhood;  and  an  infinite  ten- 
derness filled  his  heart.  There  was  an  alluring  power  in  Ellen's 
helplessness,  so  rich  in  promise  as  it  was.  He  would  joyfully 
have  secrificed  the  whole  world  in  order  to  serve  her  and  that 
which  she  so  wonderfully  bore  within  her. 

He  got  up  first  in  the  morning,  tidied  the  rooms,  and  made 
oo£Fee  before  he  went  to  work.  He  was  vexed  if  when  he  came 
home  Ellen  had  been  sweeping  or  scrubbing.  He  made  two  of 
himself  in  order  to  spare  her,  stinted  himself  of  sleep,  and  was 
restlessly  busy ;  his  face  had  assxmied  a  fixed  expression  of  hap- 
piness, which  gave  him  almost  a  look  of  stupidity.  His  thoughts 
never  went  beyond  the  four  walls  of  his  home ;  Ellen's  blessed 
form  entirely  engrossed  him. 

The  buying  of  new  furniture  was  discontinued;  in  its  place 
Ellen  made  curious  purchases  of  linen  and  flannel  and  material 
for  swaddling-bands,  and  mysterious  conversations  were  contin- 
ually taking  place  between  her  and  her  mother,  from  which  Pelle 
was  excluded ;  and  when  they  went  to  see  Ellen's  parents  Madam 
Stolpe  was  always  burrowing  in  her  chests  of  drawers,  and  giv- 
ing Ellen  little  packages  to  be  taken  home. 

The  time  passed  only  too  quickly.  Exclusively  as  they  had 
lived  for  their  own  affairs,  it  seemed  as  if  they  could  never  get 
everything  finished.  And  one  day  it  was  as  though  the  world 
was  shattered  about  their  heads.  Ellen  lay  in  bed,  turning  from 
side  to  side  and  shrieking  as  though  an  evil  spirit  had  taken 
possession  of  her  body.  Pelle  bent  over  her  with  a  helpless  ex- 
pression, while  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  sat  Madam  Blom ;  she  sat 
there  knitting  and  reading  the  papers  as  though  nothing  what- 
ever was  amiss.  ^^Shriek  away,  little  woman,**  she  said  from 
time  to  time,  when  Ellen  became  silent ;  **GhlVb  part  of  the  busi- 
ness P  Ellen  looked  at  her  spitefully  and  defiantly  pressed  her 
lips  together,  but  next  moment  she  opened  her  moulh  wide  and 
roared  wildly.  A  rope  was  fastened  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and 
she  pulled  on  this  while  she  shrieked.  Then  she  collapsed,  ex- 
hausted, ^ou  wicked,  wicked  boy,"  she  whispered,  wifli  a  faint 
smile.    Pelle  bent  over  her  happily;  but  she  pushed  him  sud- 


176  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

denly  away;  her  beautiful  body  contorted  itself,  and  the  dread- 
ful struggle  was  raging  again.  But  at  last  a  feeble  voice  re- 
liered  hers  and  filled  the  home  with  a  new  note.  ^Another 
mouth  to  flll,^'  said  Madam  Blom,  holding  the  new-bom  child 
in  the  air  by  one  leg.   It  was  a  boy. 

Pelle  went  about  blushing  and  quite  bewildered,  as  though 
something  had  happened  to  him  that  no  one  else  had  ever  ex- 
perienced. At  first  he  took  Master  Beck's  work  home  with  him 
and  looked  after  the  child  himself  at  night  Every  other  mo- 
ment he  had  to  put  down  his  work  and  run  in  to  the  mother  and 
child,  ^ou  are  a  wonderful  woman,  to  give  me  such  a  child 
for  a  kiss/'  he  said,  beaming,  ^^and  a  boy  into  the  bargain !  What 
a  man  hell  be  I'' 

*'So  if s  a  boy  !'*  said  the  'family.**  *TDon't  quite  lose  your 
head  r 

'That  would  be  the  last  straw  I*'  said  PeUe  gravely. 

The  f eminiae  members  of  the  family  teased  him  because  he 
looked  after  the  child.  ''What  a  man — ^perhaps  he'd  like  to  lie 
in  child-bed,  too  1"  they  jeered. 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  growled  Stolpe.  "But  he's  near  becom- 
ing an  idiot,  and  that's  much  more  serious.  And  it  pains  me  to 
say  it,  but  that's  the  girl's  fault.  And  yet  all  her  life  she  has 
only  heard  what  is  good  and  proper.  But  women  are  like  cats — 
there's  no  depending  on  them." 

Pelle  only  laughed  at  their  gibes.  He  was  immeasurably 
happy. 

And  now  Lasse  managed  to  find  his  way  to  see  them  I  He 
had  scarcely  received  the  news  of  the  event,  when  he  made  his 
appearance  just  as  he  was.  He  was  full  of  audaciously  high 
spirits;  he  threw  his  cap  on  the  ground  outside  the  door,  and 
rushed  into  the  bedroom  as  though  some  one  were  trying  to  hold 
him  back. 

"Ach,  the  little  creature  I  Did  any  one  ever  see  such  an 
Imgell"  he  cried,  and  he  began  to  babble  over  the  child  until 
Ellen  was  quite  rosy  with  maternal  pride. 

His  joy  at  becoming  a  grandfather  knew  no  limits.  ^So  ifa 
come  at  last,  if  s  come  at  last  I"  he  repeated,  over  and  over  again. 
"And  I  was  always  afraid  I  should  have  to  go  to  my  grave  with* 
out  leaving  a  representative  behind  me  I    Ach,  what  a  plump 


THE   QEEAT   STRUGGLE  177 

Kitle  devil  I  He's  got  something  to  begin  life  on^  he  has  t  Hell 
sorely  be  an  important  citizen^  Pelle !  Just  look  how  plump  and 
round  he  is  I  Perhaps  a  merchant  or  a  manufacturer  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort!  To  see  him  in  his  power  and  greatness— 
but  tiiat  won't  be  granted  to  Father  Lasse.''  He  sighed.  'TTes, 
yes,  here  he  is,  and  how  he  notices  one  already  I  Perhaps  the 
rascal's  wondering,  who  is  this  wrinkled  old  man  standing  there 
and  coming  to  see  me  in  his  old  clothes  ?  Tes,  it's  Father  Lasse, 
80  look  at  him  well,  he's  won  his  magnificence  by  fair  means !" 

Then  he  went  up  to  Pelle  and  fumbled  for  his  hand.  *^ell, 
I've  hardly  dared  to  hope  for  this — and  how  fine  he  is,  my 
boy!  What  are  you  going  to  call  him?"  Lasse  always  ended 
with  that  question,  looking  anxiously  at  his  son  as  he  asked  it 
His  old  head  trembled  a  little  now  when  anything  moved  him. 

^e's  to  be  called  Lasse  Frederik,"  said  Pelle'  one  dfry, 
^after  his  two  grandfathers." 

This  delighted  the  old  man.  He  went  of!  on  a  little  carouse 
in  honor  of  the  day. 

And  now  he  came  almost  every  day.  On  Sunday  mornings 
he  made  himself  scrupulously  tidy,  polishing  his  boots  and 
brushing  his  clothes,  so  as  to  make  himself  thoroughly  present* 
able.  As  he  went  home  from  work  he  would  look  in  to  ask 
whether  little  Lasse  had  slept  well.  He  eulogized  Ellen  for 
bringing  such  a  bright,  beautiful  youngster  into  the  world,  and 
she  quite  fell  in  love  with  the  old  man,  on  account  of  his  de- 
light in  the  child. 

She  even  trusted  him  to  sit  with  the  little  one,  and  he  was 
never  so  pleased  as  when  she  wished  to  go  out  and  sent  for  him 
accordingly. 

So  ^ttle  Lasse  succeeded,  merely  by  his  advent,  in  abolish- 
ing all  misunderstandings,  and  Pelle  blessed  him  for  it  He 
was  the  deuce  of  a  fellow  already— one  day  he  threw  Lasse  and 
Ellen  right  into  one  another's  arms!  Pelle  followed  step  by 
step  the  little  creature's  entrance  into  the  world;  he  noticed 
when  first  hifii  glance  riiowed  a  watchful  attention,  and  ap- 
peared to  follow  an  object,  and  when  first  his  hand  made  a 
grab  at  something,  ^ey,  hey,  just  look !  He  wants  his  share 
of  things  already!"  he  cried  delightedly.  It  was  Pelle's  fair 
moustache  the  child  was  after — and  didn't  he  give  it  a  tug! 


178  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

The  little  hand  gripped  valiantly  and  was  scarcely  to  be  le- 
moTed;  there  were  little  dimples  on  the  fingers  and  deep  creases 
at  the  wrist  There  was  any  amount  of  strength  in  Ellen's 
milk! 

Th^  saw  nothing  more  of  Morton*  He  had  visited  them  at 
first,  but  after  a  time  ceased  coming.  They  were  so  taken  up 
with  one  another  at  the  time,  and  Ellen's  cool  bdiavior  had 
perhaps  frightened  him  away.  He  couldn't  know  that  that  was 
her  manner  to  everybody.  Pelle  could  never  find  an  idle  hour  to 
look  him  up,  but  often  regretted  him.  ^Can  you  understand 
whafs  amiss  with  him?"  he  would  ask  Ellen  wonderingly. 
'^e  have  so  much  in  common,  he  and  L  Shall  I  make  short 
work  of  it  and  go  and  look  him  upP' 

Ellen  made  no  answer  to  this;  she  only  kissed  him.  She 
wanted  to  have  him  quite  to  herself,  and  encompassed  him  with 
her  love;  her  warm  breath  made  him  feel  faint  with  happiness. 
Her  will  pursued  him  and  surrounded  him  like  a  wall;  he  had 
a  faint  consciousness  of  the  fact,  but  made  no  attempt  to  bestir 
himself.    He  felt  quite  comfortable  as  he  was. 

The  child  occasioned  fresh  expenses,  and  Ellen  had  all  she 
could  do;  there  was  little  time  left  for  her  to  help  him.  He  had 
to  obtain  suitable  work,  so  that  they  might  not  sufFer  by  the 
slack  winter  season,  but  could  sit  cozily  between  their  four 
walls.  There  was  no  time  for  loafing  about  and  thinking.  It 
was  an  obvious  truth,  which  their  daily  life  confirmed,  that  poor 
people  have  all  they  can  do  to  mind  their  own  afEairs.  This 
was  a  fact  which  they  had  not  at  once  realized. 

^e  no  longer  gave  any  thought  to  outside  matters.  It  was 
really  only  from  old  habit  that,  as  he  sat  eating  his  breakfast 
in  the  workshop,  he  would  sometimes  glance  at  the  paper  his 
sandwiches  were  wrapped  in — part  of  some  back  number  of  The 
Working  Man.  Or  perhaps  it  would  happen  that  he  felt  some- 
thing in  the  air,  that  passed  him  by,  something  in  which  he  had 
no  part;  and  then  he  would  raise  his  head  with  a  listening  ex- 
pression. But  EUen  was  familiar  with  the  remoteness  that  came 
into  his  eyes  at  such  times,  and  she  knew  how  to  dispel  it  with  a 
kiss. 

One  day  he  met  Morten  in  Ihe  street.  Pelle  was  delighted, 
but  there  was  a  sceptical  expression  in  Morten's  eyes.    ^'Why 


THE   GBEAT   STBUGGLE  179 

dont  you  ever  come  to  see  me  now?^  asked  Pelle.  ^  often 
long  to  see  yon,  but  I  cant  well  get  away  from  home.** 

^'ve  f onnd  a  sweetheart — ^which  is  quite  an  occupation.'' 

^Are  you  engaged  P'  said  Pelle  yivaciously.  ^TeU  me  some- 
thing about  her  P 

^Oh,  there's  not  much  to  tell,''  said  Morten,  with  a  melan* 
choly  smile.  ^^She  is  so  ragged  and  decayed  that  no  one  else 
would  have  her — ^thafs  why  I  took  her.** 

^TThat  is  truly  just  like  you  1''  Pelle  laughed.  ^9ut  seriously, 
who  is  the  girl  and  where  does  she  live  P' 

'^Where  does  she  live  ?^  Morten  stared  at  him  for  a  moment 
xmcompr^hendingly.  ^es,  after  all  you're  right.  If  you  know 
where  people  live  you  know  all  about  them.  The  police  always 
ask  that  question." 

Pelle  did  not  know  whether  Morten  was  fooling  him  or 
whether  he  was  speaking  in  good  faith;  he  could  not  under- 
stand him  in  the  least  to-day.  His  pale  face  bore  signs  of  suf- 
fering. There  was  a  curious  glitter  in  his  eyes.  ''One  has  to 
live  somewhere  in  this  winter  CQld." 

'Tes,  you  are  right  1  And  she  lives  on  the  Common,  when 
the  policeman  doesn't  drive  her  away.  He's  the  landlord  of  the 
unfortunate,  you  know !  There  has  been  a  census  lately — ^well, 
did  you  observe  what  happened?  It  was  given  out  that  every- 
body was  to  declare  where  he  lodged  on  &  particular  night.  But 
were  the  census-papers  distributed  among  the  homeless?  No- 
all  those  who  live  in  sheds  and  outhouses,  or  on  the  Common,  or 
in  newly  erected  buildings,  or  in  the  disused  manure-pits  of  the 
livery  stables — ^they  have  no  home,  and  consequently  were  not 
counted  in  the  census.  That  was  cleverly  managed,  you  know; 
they  simply  don't  exist  1  Otherwise  there  would  be  a  very  un- 
pleasant item  on  the  list — ^the  number  of  the  homeless.  Only 
one  man  in  the  city  here  knows  what  it  is;  he's  a  street  mis- 
sionary, and  I've  sometimes  been  out  with  him  at  night;  ifs 
horrifying,  what  we've  seen!  Everywhere,  wherever  tiiere's  a 
chink,  they  crowd  into  it  in  order  to  find  shelter;  they  lie  under 
the  iron  staircases  even,  and  freeze  to  death.  We  found  one  like 
that— an  old  man — and  called  up  a  policeman;  he  stuck  his 
red  nose  right  in  the  corpse's  mouth  and  said,  'Dead  of  drink.' 
And  now  that's  put  down,  where  really  it  ought  to  say,  'Starved 


180  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

to  death  P  It  mustn't  be  said  that  any  one  really  suffers  need 
in  this  country,  yon  understand.  No  one  freezes  to  death  here 
who  will  only  keep  moving;  no  one  starves  unless  it's  his  own 
fault  It  mi^t  necessarily  be  so  in  one  of  the  most  enlight- 
ened countries  in  the  world;  people  have  become  too  cultivated 
to  allow  Want  to  stalk  free  about  the  streets;  it  would  spoil 
tiieir  enjoyment  and  disturb  their  night's  rest.  And  they  must 
be  kept  at  a  distance  too;  to  do  away  with  them  would  be 
too  troublesome;  but  the  police  are  drilled  to  chase  them  back 
into  their  holes  and  comers.  Go  down  to  the  whaling  quay  and 
see  what  they  bring  ashore  in  a  single  day  at  this  time  of  the 
year — ^it  isn't  far  from  your  place.  Accidents,  of  course  I  The 
ground  is  so  slippery,  and  people  go  too  near  the  edge  of  the 
quay.  The  other  night  a  woman  brought  a  child  into  the  world 
in  an  open  doorway  in  North  Bridge  Street — ^in  ten  degrees  of 
frost.  People  who  collected  were  indignant;  it  was  unpardon- 
able of  her  to  go  about  in  such  a  condition—^he  ought  to  have 
stopped  at  home.  It  didn't  occur  to  them  that  she  had  no  home. 
Well  then,  she  could  have  gone  to  the  police;  they  are  obliged 
to  take  people  in.  On  the  other  hand,  as  we  were  putting  her 
in  the  cab,  she  began  to  cry,  in  terror,  *Not  the  maternity  hos- 
pital— ^not  the  maternity  hospital  I'  She  had  already  been  there 
some  time  or  other.  She  must  have  had  some  reason  for  pre- 
ferring the  doorstep — ^just  as  the  others  preferred  the  canal  to 
the  workhouse." 

Morten  continued,  regardless  of  Pelle,  as  though  he  had  to 
ease  some  inward  torment.  Pelle  listened  astounded  to  this  out- 
burst of  lacerating  anguish  with  a  shamed  feeling  that  he  him- 
self had  a  layer  of  fat  round  his  heart.  As  Morten  spoke 
poverty  once  more  assumed  a  peculiar,  horrible,  living  glimmer. 

^'Why  do  you  tell  me  all  this  as  if  I  belonged  to  the  upper 
classes?"  he  said.    ^T,  know  all  this  as  well  as  you  do." 

'^And  we  haven't  even  a  bad  year,"  Morten  continued,  "41ie 
circumstances  are  as  they  always  are  at  this  time  of  year.  Yes- 
terday a  poor  man  stole  a  loaf  from  the  counter  and  ran  off  with 
it;  now  he'll  be  branded  all  his  life.  ^My  God,  that  he  should 
want  to  make  himself  a  thief  for  so  little  I'  said  the  master's 
wife — ^it  was  a  twopenny-ha'penny  roll.  If s  not  easy  to  grasp 
'. — ^branded  for  his  whole  life  for  a  roll  of  bread  I" 


THE   GREAT  STRUGGLE  181 

"He  was  starving/'  said  Pelle  stupidly. 

"Starving?  Yes,  of  course  he  was  starving!  But  to  me  ifs 
insanity,  I  tell  you — ^I  can't  take  it  in ;  and  every  one  else  thinks 
ifs  so  easy  to  understand.  Why  do  I  tell  you  this,  you  ask? 
You  know  it  as  well  as  I  do.  No,  hut  you  don't  know  it  prop- 
erly, or  you'd  have  to  rack  your  brains  till  you  were  crazy  over 
the  frightful  insanity  of  the  fact  that  these  two  words — ^bread 
and  crime — can  belong  together  I  Isn't  it  insane,  that  the  two 
ends  should  bend  together  and  close  in  a  ring  about  a  human 
life?  That  a  man  should  steal  bread  of  all  tilings — ^breacl,  do 
you  tmderstand?  Bread  ought  not  to  be  stolen.  What  does 
any  man  want  with  thieving  who  eats  enough?  In  the  morn- 
ings, long  before  six  o'clock,  the  poor  people  gather  outside  our 
shop,  and  stand  there  in  rows,  in  order  to  be  the  first  to  get  the 
stale  bread  that  is  sold  at  half-price.  The  police  make  them 
stand  in  a  row,  just  as  they  do  outside  the  box-office  at  the 
theater,  and  some  come  as  early  as  four,  and  stand  two  hours  in 
the  cold,  in  order  to  be  sure  of  their  place.  But  besides  those 
who  buy  there  is  always  a  crowd  of  people  still  poorer;  they 
have  no  money  to  buy  with,  but  they  stand  there  and  stare  as 
though  it  interested  them  greatly  to  see  the  others  getting  their 
bread  cheap.  They  stand  there  waiting  for  a  miracle  in  the 
shape  of  a  slice  of  bread.  One  can  see  that  in  the  way  their 
eyes  follow  every  movement,  with  the  same  desperate  hope  that 
you  see  in  the  eyes  of  the  dogs  when  they  stand  round  the 
butcher's  cart  and  implore  Heaven  that  the  butcher  may  drop 
a  bit  of  meat.  They  don't  understand  that  no  one  will  piiy 
them.  Not  we  human  beings — ^you  should  see  their  surprise 
when  we  give  them  anything ! — ^but  chance,  some  accident  Ctood 
God,  bread  is  so  cheap,  the  cheapest  of  all  the  important  things 
in  this  world — and  yet  they  can't  for  once  have  enough  of  it! 
This  morning  I  slipped  a  loaf  into  an  old  woman's  hand — she 
kissed  it  and  wq)t  for  joy!  Do  you  feel  that  thafs  endurable?" 
He  stared  at  Pelle  with  madness  lurking  in  his  gaze. 

'TTou  do  me  an  injustice  if  you  think  I  don't  feel  it  too," 
said  Pelle  quietly.  "But  where  is  there  a  quick  way  out  of  this 
evil?  We  must  be  patient  and  organize  ourselves  and  trust  to 
time.  To  seize  on  our  rights  as  theyNre  done  elsewhere  won't 
do  for  us." 


18»  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB      * 

^0,  thafs  just  it  I  They  know  it  won't  do  for  ns — ^fhafs 
why  justice  never  goes  forward.  The  people  get  only  whaf  s  due 
to  them  if  the  leaders  know  that  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst 
•they  can  provide  for  themselves.'' 

'^  don't  believe  that  any  good  would  come  of  a  revolution," 
said  Pelle  emphatically.  He  felt  the  old  longing  to  fight  within 
him. 

<^ou  can't  understand  about  that  unless  you've  felt  it  in 
yourself,"  rq)lied  Morten  passionately.  'Evolution  is  the 
voice  of  Qod,  which  administers  right  and  justice,  and  it  can* 
not  be  disputed.  If  the  poor  were  to  rise  to  see  that  justice  was 
done  it  would  be  Qod's  judgment,  and  it  would  not  be  over* 
thrown.  The  age  has  surely  the  right  to  redeem  itself  when  it 
has  fallen  into  arrears  in  respect  of  matters  so  important;  but  it 
could  do  so  only  by  a  leap  forward.  But  the  people  don't  rise, 
they  are  like  a  damp  powder  I  You  must  surely  some  time  have 
been  in  the  cellar  of  the  old  iron  merchant  under  the  ^Ark,'  and 
have  seen  his  store  of  rags  and  bones  and  old  iron  rubbish? 
They  are  mere  takings  of  the  refuse-heap,  things  that  hxmian 
society  once  needed  and  then  rejected.  He  collects  them  again, 
and  now  the  poor  can  buy  them.  And  he  buys  the  soldiers' 
bread  too,  when  they  want  to  go  on  the  spree,  and  throws  it  on 
his  muck-heap;  he  calls  it  fodder  for  horses,  but  the  poor  buy 
it  of  him  and  eat  it.  The  refuse-heap  is  the  poor  man's  larder 
— ^that  is,  when  the  pigs  have  taken  what  they  want.  The 
Amager  farmers  fatten  their  swine  there,  and  the  sanitary 
commission  talks  about  forbidding  it;  but  no  one  has  compas- 
sion on  the  Copenhagen  poor." 

Pelle  shuddered.  There  was  something  demoniacal  in  Mor- 
ten's hideous  knowledge — ^he  knew  more  of  the  ''Ark"  than 
Pelle  himself.  ''Have  you,  too,  been  down  in  that  loathsome 
rubbish-store  ?"  he  asked,  "or  how  do  you  know  all  this  ?" 

"No,  I've  not  been  there — ^but  I  can't  help  knowing  it — 
that's  my  curse !  Ask  me  even  whether  they  make  soup  out  of 
the  rotten  bones  th^  get  there.  And  not  even  the  poison  of 
the  refuse-heap  will  inflame  them;  they  lap  it  up  and  long  for 
morel  I  can't  bear  it  if  nothing  is  going  to  happen!  Now 
you've  pulled  yourself  out  of  the  mire — ^and  if  s  the  same  with 
everybody  who  has  accomplished  anything — one  after  another — 


THE   GEEAT   STBUGGLB  183 

either  because  they  are  contented  or  because  they  are  absorbed 
in  their  own  pitiful  affairs.  Those  who  are  of  any  use  sfink 
away^  and  only  the  needy  are  left'' 

"I  have  never  left  you  in  the  lurch/'  said  Pelle  warmly. 
^TTou  must  realize  that  I  haven  V 

**It  isn't  to  be  wondered  at  that  they  get  weary,"  Morten 
continued.  ''Even  God  loses  patience  with  those  who  always 
let  themselves  be  trampled  upon.  Last  night  I  dreamed  I  was 
one  of  the  starving.  I  was  going  up  the  street,  grieving  at 
my  condition,  and  I  ran  up  against  God.  He  was  dressed 
like  an  old  Cossack  officer,  and  had  a  knout  hanging  round 
his  neck. 

^  'Help  me,  dear  God  1'  I  cried,  and  fell  on  my  knees  before 
him.    Ily  brothers  won't  help  me.' 

^ TWiat  ails  you?'  he  asked,  'and  who  are  you?* 

^  1  am  one  of  Thy  chosen  folk,  one  of  the  poor,'  I  answered. 
1  am  starving  I' 

"  Tou  are  starving  and  complain  of  your  brothers,  who  have 
set  forth  food  for  you  in  abundance?'  he  said  angrily,  pointing 
to  all  the  fine  shops.  Tou  do  not  belong  to  my  chosen  people 
— away  with  you  1'  And  then  he  lashed  me  over  the  back  with 
his  knout." 

Morten  checked  himself  and  spoke  no  more ;  it  was  as  though 
he  neither  saw  nor  heard ;  he  had  quite  collapsed.  Suddenly  he 
turned  away,  without  saying  good-bye. 

Pelle  went  home;  he  was  vexed  by  Morten's  violence,  which 
was,  he  felt,  an  attack  upon  himself.  He  knew  this  of  hinuself 
— ^that  he  was  not  faithless ;  and  no  one  had  any  right  to  grudge 
him  the  happiness  of  founding  a  family.  He  was  quite  indig- 
nant— for  the  first  time  for  a  long  time.  That  tiiey  should 
taunt  him,  who  had  done  more  for  the  cause  than  most  1 — ^just 
because  he  looked  after  his  own  affairs  for  a  time !  Something 
unruly  was  rising  within  him;  he  felt  a  sudden  need  to  lay  about 
him ;  to  fight  a  good  stiff  batUe  and  shake  the  warm  domesticity 
out  of  his  bones. 

Down  by  the  canal  they  were  engaged  cutting  the  ice  in 
order  to  clear  the  water.  It  was  already  spring  tide,  and  the 
ice-cakes  were  drifting  toward  the  sea,  but  with  unbelievable 
slowness.    After  all,  thaf s  the  work  for  you,  he  told  himself  as 


iU  PmAjE  THE   CONQTIEBOB 

he  turned  away.  He  was  conscious  of  that  which  lay  beneath 
the  surface^  but  he  would  not  let  it  rise. 

As  soon  as  he  was  between  four  walls  again  he  grew  calmer. 
Sllen  sat  by  the  stove  busied  with  little  Lasse^  who  lay  sprawling 
on  his  belly  in  her  lap. 

*^Only  look  what  a  sweet  little  roly-poly  he  is  I  There  isn't 
a  trace  of  chafing  anywhere  I" 


xvn 

Fboh  his  place  at  the  window  Pelle  could  look  out  over  the 
canal  and  the  bridge  by  the  prison^  where  the  prisoners  lay  on 
the  rafts^  washing  wool.  He  recognized  Ferdinand's  tall,  power- 
ful figure;  shortly  after  Christmas  they  had  captured  him  in  an 
underground  vault  in  the  cemetery,  where  he  had  established 
himself;  the  snow  had  betrayed  his  hiding-place.  And  now  he 
lay  yonder,  so  near  the  ^'Ark^'  and  his  mother !  From  time  to 
time  he  raised  his  closely-shorn  head  and  looked  thither. 

Beyond  the  bridge  toward  the  market,  was  the  potter  with 
his  barge ;  he  had  piled  up  his  Jutland  wares  on  the  quay,  and 
the  women  from  Kristianshavn  came  to  deal  with  him.  And 
behind  at  the  back  of  all  rose  the  mass  of  the  ^Ark.^' 

It  was  so  huge  that  it  did  not  give  the  impression  of  a  bar- 
racks, but  had  rather  the  character  of  a  fantastic  village — as 
though  a  hundred  hamlets  had  been  swept  together  in  one  in- 
extricable heap.  Originally  it  had  been  a  little  frame  building 
of  one  story  with  a  gabled  roof.  Then  it  had  gradually  become 
an  embryo  town;  it  budded  in  all  directions,  upward  as  well, 
kaleidoscopically  increasing  to  a  vast  mass  of  little  bits  of 
f a<^e,  high-pitched  roofs,  deep  bays,  and  overhanging  gables, 
all  mingled  together  in  an  endless  confusion,  till  in  the  middle 
it  was  five  stories  high.  And  there  a  bluish  ring  of  vapor  always 
hovered,  revealing  the  presence  of  the  well,  that  hidden  ventilat- 
ing shaft  for  the  thronging  inmates  of  the  ^'Ark.'^  One  could 
recognize  Madam  Frandsen's  garret  with  its  chimney-cowl,  and 
farther  back,  in  a  deep  recess,  which  ran  far  into  tiie  mass  of 
the  building,  Pelle  could  distbiguish  Banners  window.  Other- 
wise he  could  not  place  many  of  the  little  windows.  They 
stared  like  failing  eyes.  Even  the  coal-dealer,  who  was  the 
deputy  landlord  of  the  ^Ark,**  was  imperfectly  acquainted  with 
all  its  holes  and  comers. 

18S 


186  PELLB   THE   CONQUBBOB 

He  could  see  the  inmates  of  the  ^Ark''  miming  to  and^ 
across  the  bridge,  careless  and  myopic;  they  always  rodied 
along)  having  started  at  the  last  moment^  There  was  something 
tranquilizing  about  their  negligence,  which  was  evoked  by  pri- 
vation; in  the  ''Ark''  a  man  b^gan  to  worry  about  his  food  only^ 
when  he  sat  down  to  table  and  discovered  there  wasn't  any  1 

And  among  them  little  groups  of  workmen  wandered  in  and 
out  across  the  bridge;  that  steady  march  from  the  North  Bridge 
had  travelled  hither,  as  though  seeking  him  out 

The  masses  were  now  no  longer  vaguely  fermenting;  a 
mighty  will  was  in  process  of  formation.  Amid  the  confusion, 
the  chaotic  hubbub,  definite  lines  became  visible;  a  common  con- 
sciousness came  into  being  and  assumed  a  direction;  the  thou- 
sands of  workers  controlled  themselves  in  a  remarkable  way, 
and  were  now  progressing,  slowly  and  prudently,  with  the  ideal 
of  closing  up  the  ranks.  One  whose  hearing  was  a  little  dull 
might  have  received  the  impression  that  nothing  was  happening 
— ^that  they  were  reconciled  with  their  lot ;  but  Pelle  knew  what 
was  going  on.  He  himself  had  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel, 
and  was  secretly  one  of  their  number. 

He  was  happy  in  Ellen's  divided  love,  and  all  he  undertook 
had  reference  to  her  and  the  child. 

But  now  again  the  sound  of  footsteps  echoed  through  his 
brain;  and  it  would  not  be  silenced.  They  had  penetrated 
further  than  he  himself  could  go.  It  was  as  though  a  deadening 
screen  had  suddenly  been  removed  and  whether  he  wished  it  or 
not,  he  heard  every  step  of  the  wanderers  outside. 

The  hard  times  forced  them  to  proceed  quietly,  but  work 
was  being  done  in  secret.  The  new  ideas  were  in  process  of  be- 
coming current,  the  newspapers  introduced  them  into  the  bosom 
of  the  family,  and  they  were  uttered  from  the  speaker's  plat- 
form, or  discussed  at  meal-times  in  workshop  and  factory.  The 
contagion  ran  up  staircases  and  went  from  door  to  door.  Organ- 
izations which  more  than  once  had  been  created  and  broken  up 
were  created  afresh — and  this  time  to  endure.  The  employers 
fought  them,  but  could  not  defeat  them;  there  was  an  inward 
law  working  upon  the  masses,  making  a  structure  behind  which 
fhey  must  defend  themselves. 
\^     They  taxed  themselves  and  stole  the  bread  out  of  their  own 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  187 

moufhs  in  order  to  increase  the  funds  of  their  organization,  in 
the  blind  conviction  that  eventually  something  miraculous  would 
come  of  it  all.  The  poor  achieved  power  by  means  of  priva- 
tion, tears,  and  self-denial,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  feeling 
that  they  were  rich  through  their  organization.  When  many 
united  together  they  tasted  of  the  sweets  of  wealth ;  and,  grat^ 
f ul  as  they  were,  they  regarded  that  already  as  a  result.  A 
sense  of  well-being  lifted  them  above  the  Imorganized,  and  they 
felt  themselves  socially  superior  to  the  latter.  To  join  the  trades 
unions  now  signified  a  rise  in  the  social  scale.  This  affected 
many,  and  others  were  driven  into  the  movement  by  the  strong 
representations  of  their  house-mates.  The  big  tenement  build- 
ings were  gradually  leavened  by  the  new  ideas ;  those  who  would 
not  join  the  Union  must  clear  out  They  were  treated  as  the 
scum  of  society,  and  could  only  settle  down  in  certain  quarters 
of  the  city.  It  no  longer  seemed  impossible  to  establish  the 
organization  of  labor  in  a  stable  fashion,  and  to  accomplish 
something  for  the  workers — ^if  only  some  courageous  worker 
would  place  himself  at  the  head  of  affairs.  The  fact  that  most 
of  them  worked  at  home  in  their  lodgings  could  no  longer  make 
them  invisible — ^the  movement  had  eyes  everywhere.  Pelle,  with 
surprise,  caught  himself  sitting  at  his  bench  and  making  plans 
for  the  development  of  the  movement. 

He  put  the  matter  from  him,  and  devoted  his  whole  mind  to 
Ellen  and  the  child.  What  had  he  to  do  with  the  need  of 
strangers,  when  these  two  called  for  all  his  ability  and  all  his 
strength,  if  he  was  to  provide  them  merely  with  necessities? 
He  had  tortured  himself  enough  with  the  burden  of  poverty — 
and  to  no  end.  And  now  he  had  found  his  release  in  a  blessed 
activity,  which,  if  he  was  to  neglect  nothing,  would  entirely 
absorb  him.  Wliat  then  was  the  meaning  of  this  inward  admoni- 
tion, that  seemed  to  tell  him  that  he  was  sinning  against  his 

duty? 

He  silenced  the  inward  voice  by  dwelling  on  his  joy  in  his 
wife  and  child.  But  it  returned  insidiously  and  haunted  his 
mind  like  a  shadow. 

At  times,  as  he  sat  quietly  working,  something  called  him: 
^elle,  Pelle  P'— or  the  words  throbbed  in  his  ears  in  the  depth 
of  the  night 


188  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

At  such  times  he  sat  upright  in  bed^  listening.  Ellen  and 
the  child  were  fast  asleep;  he  oonld  hear  a  faint  whistling  as 
little  Lasse  drew  his  breath.  He  would  go  to  the  door  and  open 
ity  although  he  shook  his  head  at  his  own  folly.  It  was  surely 
a  warning  that  some  one  near  to  him  was  in  trouble  I 

At  this  time  PeUe  threw  himself  passionately  into  his  life 
with  Ellen  and  the  child;  he  lived  for  them  as  wholly  as  though 
he  had  anticipated  an  immediate  parting. 

They  had  purchased  a  perambulator  on  the  instalment  sys- 
tem,  and  every  Sunday  they  packed  sandwiches  under  the 
apron  and  pushed  it  before  them  to  tiie  Common^  or  they 
turned  into  some  beer-garden  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  city^ 
where  they  ate  their  provisions  and  drank  coffee.  Ofi^ 
too  they  made  their  way  along  the  coast  road,  and  went  right 
out  into  the  forest  Lasse-Frederik,  as  EUen  called  him,  sat 
throned  in  all  his  splendor  in  the  perambulator,  like  a  little 
idol,  Pelle  and  Ellen  pushing  h\m  alternately.  Ellen  did  not 
want  to  permit  this,  ^^f s  no  work  for  a  man,  pushing  a  per- 
ambulator,'' she  would  say.  ^TTou  won't  see  any  other  man 
doing  it  I    They  let  their  wives  push  the  family  coach." 

*n^at  are  other  people  to  me?"  replied  PeUe.  **I  don't 
keep  a  horse  yet." 

She  gave  him  a  grateful  look;  nevertheless,  she  did  not  like 
it 

They  spent  glorious  hours  out  there.  Little  Lasse  was 
allowed  to  scramble  QjK)ut  to  his  heart's  content,  and  it  was 
wonderful  how  he  tumbled  about;  he  was  like  a  frolicsome  little 
bear.  ^T,  believe  he  can  smell  the  earth  under  him,"  said  Pelle, 
recalling  his  own  childish  transports.  '^If  s  a  pity  he  has  to 
live  in  that  barrack  there  I"  Ellen  gazed  at  him  uncompre- 
hendingly. 

They  did  not  move  about  much;  it  contented  them  to  lie 
there  and  to  delight  in  the  child,  when  he  suddenly  sat  up  and 
gazed  at  them  in  astonishment,  as  though  he  had  just  dis- 
covered them,  ^^ow  he's  beginning  to  think  !"•  said  Pelle, 
laughing. 

^TTou  take  my  word  for  it,  he's  hungry."  And  little  Lasse 
scrambled  straight  up  to  his  mother,  striking  at  her  breast  with 
his  clenched  hands,  and  saying,  **Mam,  mam  1"    Pelle  and  the 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  189 

perambulator  had  to  station,  themselves  in  front  of  her  while 
he  was  fed. 

When  they  reached  home  it  was  evening.  If  the  doormat 
was  displaced  it  meant  that  some  one  had  been  to  call  on  them ; 
and  Ellen  jsras  able  to  teU^  from  its  position,  who  the  visitor 
had  been.    Once  it  stood  upright  against  the  wall. 

'^Thafs  Uncle  Carpenter/*  said  Pelle  quietly.  Little  Lasse 
was  sleeping  on  his  arm,  his  head  resting  on  Pellets  shoulder. 

^0,  it  will  have  been  Cousin  Anna/'  said  EUen,  opening 
the  door.  'Thank  the  Lord  we  weren't  at  home*  or  we  should 
have  had  such  a  business  till  late  in  the  evening  I  They  never 
eat  anything  at  home  on  Sundays,  they  simply  drink  a  mouth- 
ful of  coffee  and  then  go  round  eating  their  relations  out  of 
house  and  home.'' 


XVIII. 

Pellb  often  thought  with  concern  of  the  three  orphans  in 
the  ''Arf  They  were  learning  nothing  that  would  be  of  use 
to  them  in  the  future,  but  had  all  they  could  do  to  make  a 
living.  The  bad  times  had  hit  them  too,  and  little  Karl  in  par- 
ticular; people  were  stingy  with  their  tips.  In  these  days  they 
were  never  more  than  a  day  ahead  of  destitution,  and  the 
slightest  misfortune  would  have  brought  them  face  to  face  with 
it.  But  they  let  nothing  of  this  be  seen — they  were  only  a  little 
quieter  and  more  solemn  than  usuaL  He  had  on  several  occa- 
sions made  inquiries  as  to  obtaining  help  for  them,  but  nothing 
could  be  done  without  immediately  tearing  ihem  asunder;  all 
those  who  were  in  a  position  to  help  them  cried  out  against 
their  little  household,  and  separation  was  the  worst  that  could 
befall  them. 

When  he  went  to  see  them  Marie  always  had  plenty  to  tell 
and  to  ask  him;  he  was  still  her  particular  confidant,  and  had 
to  listen  to  all  her  household  cares  and 'give  her  his  advice.  She 
was  growing  taU  now,  and  had  a  fresher  look  than  of  old;  and 
PeUe's  presence  always  filled  her  eyes  with  joy  and  brought  the 
color  to  her  cheeks.  Father  loL&se  she  eulogized,  in  a  voice  full 
of  emotion,  as  though  he  were  a  little  helpless  child;  but  when 
she  asked  after  Ellen  a  little  malice  glittered  in  her  eyes. 

One  morning,  as  he  sat  working  at  home,  while  Ellen  was 
out  with  the  child,  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  He  went  out 
and  opened  it.  In  the  little  letter-box  some  one  had  thrust  a 
number  of  The  Working*  Ma^,  with  an  invitation  to  take  the 
paper  regularly.  He  opened  the  paper  eagerly,  as  he  sat  down  to 
his  bench  again ;  an  extraordinary^  feeling  of  distress  caused  him 
first  of  all  to  run  through  the  ''Accidents.** 

He  started  up  in  his  chair;  there  was  a  heading  concerning 
a  fourteen-year-old  boy  who  worked  in  a  tinplate  works  and  had 

190 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  191 

bad  the  fingers  of  the  right  hand  cut  ofF.  A  premonition  told 
him  that  this  misfortune  had  befallen  the  little  'Tamily'';  he 
quickly  drew  on  a  coat  and  ran  over  to  tbtf  "ArL** 

Marie  met  him  anxiously.  '^Can  you  understand  what  has 
happened  to  Peter?  He  never  came  home  last  night P  she 
said,  in  distress.  ^^Lots  of  boys  roam  about  the  streets  all 
night,  but  Peter  has  never  been  like  that,  and  I  kept  his  supper 
warm  tiU  midnight.  I  thought  perhaps  he'd  got  into  bad  oom- 
pany.'* 

Pelle  showed  her  The  Working  Man.  In  a  little  while  the 
inmates  of  the  ^'Ark^'  would  see  the  report  and  come  rushing  up 
with  it.  It  was  better  that  he  should  prepare  her  beforehand. 
'*But  ifs  by  no  means  certain/*  he  said,  to  cheer  her.  'Ter- 
haps  it  isn't  he  at  alL'' 

Marie  burst  into  tears.  ^TTes,  of  course  it  is  I  Pve  so  often 
gone  about  worrying  when  he's  been  telling  me  about  those 
sharp  knives  always  sliding  between  their  fingers.  And  they 
can't  take  proper  care  of  themselves;  they  must  work  quickly  or 
they  get  the  sack.  Oh,  poor  dear  Peter !"  She  had  simk  into 
her  chair  and  now  sat  rocking  to  and  fro  with  her  apron  to  her 
eyes,  like  an  unhappy  mother. 

''Now  be  grown-up  and  sensible,"  said  Pelle,  laying  his  hand 
on  her  shoulder.  'Terhaps  it's  not  so  bad  after  all;  the  papers 
always  exaggerate.  Now  I'll  run  out  and  see  if  I  can  trace 
him." 

''Go  to  the  factory  first,  then,"  said  Marie,  jumping  to  her 
feet,  "for,  of  course,  theyTl  know  best.  But  you  mustn't  in  any 
case  say  where  we  live— do  you  hear?  Bemember,  we've  not 
been  to  school,  and  he  hasn't  been  notified  to  the  pastor  for 
confirmation.    We  could  be  ptmished  if  they  f  otmd  that  out." 

"Ill  take  good  care,"  said  PeUe,  and  he  hurried  away. 

At  the  factory  he  received  the  information  that  Peter  was 
lying  in  hospital  He  ran  thither,  and  arrived  just  at  the  time 
for  visitors.  Peter  was  sitting  upright  in  bed,  his  hand  in  a 
sling;  this  gave  him  a  curiously  crippled  appearance.  And  on 
the  boy's  face  affliction  had  already  left  those  deep,  ineradicable 
traces  which  so  dismaUy  distinguish  the  invalided  worker.  The 
terrible  burden  of  the  consequences  of  mutilation  could  already 
be  read  in  his  pondering,  childish  gaze. 


192  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

He  cheered  up  when  he  saw  Pelle,  made  an  inyolnntary 
movement  with  his  right  hand,  and  then,  remembering,  held  ont 
his  left  'TThere — ^I  must  give  you  my  left  fist  now/'  he  said, 
with  a  dismal  smile.  ^TThatll  seem  queer  to  me  for  a  bit.  If 
I  can  do  anything  at  all.  Otherwise'' — ^he  made  a  threatening 
movement  of  the  head — ^  tell  you  this — ^111  never  be  a  burden 
to  Marie  and  Karl  all  my  life.  Take  my  word  for  it,  I  shall  be 
be  able  to  work  again.'* 

''We  shall  soon  find  something  for  you,"  said  Pelle,  *'and 
there  are  kind  people,  too.  Perhaps  some  one  will  help  you  so 
that  you  can  study."  He  himself  did  not  know  just  where  that 
idea  came  from ;  he  certainly  had  never  seen  such  a  case.  The 
magical  dreams  of  his  childhood  had  been  responsible  for  a 
whole  class  of  ideas,  which  were  nourished  by  the  anecdotes  of 
poor  boys  in  the  reading-books.  He  was  confronted  by  the  im- 
possible, and  quite  simply  he  reached  out  after  the  impossible. 

Peter  had  no  reading-books  at  his  back.  ''Kind  people !"  he 
cried  scornfully — ^"they  never  have  anything  themselves,  and  I 
can't  even  read — ^how  should  I  learn  how  to  study?  Eiarl  can 
read;  he  taught  himself  from  the  signs  in  the  streets  while  he 
was  running  his  errands ;  and  he  can  write  as  welL  And  Hanne 
has  taught  Marie  a  little.  But  all  my  life  I've  only  been  in  the 
factory."  He  stared  bitterly  into  space;  it  was  melancholy  to 
see  how  changed  his  face  was — ^it  had  quite  fallen  in. 

"Don't  worry  now,"  said  Pelle  confidently:  "we  shall  soon 
find  something." 

"Only  spare  me  the  poor-relief!  Don't  you  go  b^ging  for 
me — ^that's  all  I"  said  Peter  angrily.  "And,  Pelle,"  he  whis- 
pered, so  that  no  one  in  the  room  should  hear,  "it  really  isn't 
nice  here.  Last  night  an  old  man  lay  there  and  died — close  to 
me.  He  died  of  cancer,  and  they  didn't  even  put  a  screen  round 
him.  All  the  time  he  lay  there  and  stared  at  me !  But  in  a  few 
days  I  shall  be  able  to  go  out  Then  therell  be  something  to  be 
paid— otherwise  the  business  will  come  before  the  Poor  Law 
guardians,  and  then  they'll  begin  to  snuff  around — and  I've 
told  them  fibe,  Pelle  I  Can't  you  come  and  get  me  out  ?  Marie 
has  money  for  the  house-rent  by  her — ^you  can  take  that." 

Pelle  promised,  and  hurried  back  to  his  work.  Ellen  was  at 
home;  ahe  was  moving  about  and  seemed  astonished.    Pelle 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  193 

confided  the  whole  affair  to  her.  "Such  a  splendid  fellow  he  is/' 
he  said^  almost  crying.  "A  little  too  solemn  trith  all  his  work 
— and  now  he's  a  cripple!  Only  a  child,  and  an  invalided 
worker  already — Wb  horrible  to  think  of  I*' 

Ellen  went  np  to  him  and  pulled  his  head  against  her 
shoulder;  soothingly  she  stroked  his  hair,  '^e  must  do  some- 
thing for  him,  Ellen/*  he  said  dully. 

'TTou  are  so  good,  Pelle.  You'd  like  to  help  everybody;  but 
what  can  we  do?  We've  paid  away  all  our  savings  over  my 
lying-in." 

*We  must  sell  or  pawn  some  of  our  things.'' 

She  looked  at  him  horrified.  'Telle,  our  dear  home !  And 
there's  nothing  here  but  just  what  is  absolutely  necessary.  And 
you  who  love  our  poor  little  belongings  so!  But  if  you  mean 
that,  why,  of  course!  Only  you  are  doing  something  for  him 
already  in  sacrificing  your  time." 

After  that  he  was  silent.  She  several  times  referred  to  the 
matter  again,  as  something  that  must  be  well  deliberated,  but  he 
did  not  reply.  Her  conversation  hurt  him — ^whether  he  replied 
to  it  or  was  silent. 

In  the  afternoon  he  invented  an  errand  in  the  city,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  factory.  He  made  for  the  counting-house, 
and  succeeded  in  seeing  the  manufacturer  himself.  The  latter 
was  quite  upset  by  the  occurrence,  but  pleaded  in  vindication 
that  the  accident  was  entirely  the  result  of  negligence.  He 
advised  Pelle  to  make  a  collection  among  the  workers  in  the 
factory,  and  he  opened  it  himself  with  a  contribution  of  twenty 
kroner.  He  also  held  out  the  prospect  that  Peter,  who  was  a 
reliable  lad,  might  take  a  place  as  messenger  and  collector  when 
he  was  weU  again. 

Peter  was  much  liked  by  his  comrades;  a  nice  little  sum 
was  collected.  Pelle  paid  his  hospital  dues,  and  there  was  so 
much  left  that  he  would  be  able  to  stay  at  home  and  rest  with  an 
easy  mind  until  his  hand  was  healed  and  he  could  take  the 
place  of  messenger  at  the  factory.  The  young  invalid  was  in 
high  spirits,  knowing  that  his  living  was  assured;  he  passed  the 
time  in  lotmging  about  the  town,  wherever  there  was  music  to 
be  heard,  in  order  to  learn  fresh  tunes.  'This  is  the  first  holii 
day  I've  had  since  I  went  to  the  factory,"  he  told  Pelle. 


194  PELLE   THE    CONQUEROR 

He  did  not  get  the  place  as  messenger — some  one  stole  a 
march  on  him;  but  he  received  permission  to  go  back  to  his  old 
work  I  With  the  remains  of  his  right  hand  he  could  hold 
the  sheet  of  tin-plate  on  the  table^  while  the  left  hand  had  to 
accustom  itself  to  moving  among  the  threatening  knives.  This 
only  demanded  time  and  a  little  extra  watchfulness. 

This  accident  was  branded  on  Pellets  soul,  and  it  aroused 
his  slumbering  resentment.  Chance  had  given  him  the  three 
orphans  in  the  place  of  brothers  and  sisters,  and  he  felt  Peter's 
fate  as  keenly  as  if  it  had  been  his  own.  It  was  a  scandal  that 
young  children  should  be  forced  to  earn  their  living  by  work 
that  endangered  their  lives,  in  order  to  keep  the  detested  Poor 
Law  guardians  at  bay.  What  sort  of  a  social  order  was  this? 
He  felt  a  suffocating  desire  to  strike  out,  to  attack  it. 

The  burden  of  Due's  fate,  aggravated  by  this  fresh  mis- 
fortune, was  once  more  visible  in  his  face;  Ellen's  gentle  hand 
could  not  smooth  it  away.  'TDon't  look  so  angry,  now — ^you 
frighten  the  child  sol"  she  would  say,  reaching  hhn  the  boy. 
And  Pelle  would  try  to  smile;  but  it  was  only  a  grim  sort  of 
smile. 

He  did  not  feel  that  it  was  necessary  to  allow  Ellen  to  look 
into  his  bleeding  soul;  he  conversed  with  her  about  indifferent 
things.  At  other  times  he  sat  gazing  into  the  distance,  peering 
watchfully  at  every  sign;  he  was  once  more  full  of  the  feeling 
that  he  was  appointed  to  some  particular  purpose.  He  was 
certain  that  tidings  of  some  kind  were  on  the  way  to  him. 

And  then  Shoemaker  Petersen  died,  and  he  was  again  asked 
to  take  over  the  management  of  the  Union. 

''What  do  you  say  to  that?"  he  asked  EUen,  although  his 
mind  was  irrevocably  made  up. 

'TTou  must  know  that  yourself,"  she  replied  reservedly. 
**But  if  it  gives  you  pleasure,  why,  of  course  I" 

'1  am  not  doing  it  to  please  myself,"  said  Pelle  gloomily. 
'1  am  not  a  woman  1" 

He  regretted  his  words,  and  went  over  to  Ellen  and  kissed 
her.  She  had  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  looked  at  him  in  astonish- 
ment. 


XIX 

Thebb  was  plenty  to  be  done.  The  renegades  mnst  be 
shepherded  back  to  the  organization — shepherded  or  driven; 
Pelle  took  the  most  willing  firsts  allowing  numbers  to  impress 
the  rest.  Those  who  were  quite  stubborn  he  left  to  their  own 
devices  for  the  time  being;  when  they  were  isolated  and  marked 
men  into  the  bargain,  they  could  do  no  further  mischief. 

He  felt  well  rested,  and  went  very  methodicaUy  to  work. 
The  feeling  that  his  strength  would  hold  out  to  the  very  end 
lent  him  a  quiet  courage  that  inspired  confidence.  He  was  not 
over-hasty,  but  saw  to  everything  from  the  foundations  up- 
ward; individual  questions  he  postponed  until  the  conditions 
for  solving  them  should  be  at  hand.  He  knew  from  previous 
experience  that  nothing  could  be  accomplished  imless  the  ranks 
were  tightly  knit  together. 

So  passed  the  remainder  of  the  summer.  And  then  the 
organization  was  complete ;  it  looked  as  though  it  could  stand  a 
tussle.  And  the  first  question  was  the  tarifF.  This  was  bad  and 
antiquated;  thoroughly  behind  the  times  in  aU  respects;  the 
trade  was  groaning  under  a  low  rate  of  wages,  which  had  not 
kept  step  with  the  general  development  and  the  augmentation 
of  prices.  But  Pelle  allowed  his  practical  common  sense  to  pre- 
vail. The  moment  was  not  favorable  for  a  demand  for  higher 
wages.  The  organization  could  not  lend  the  demand  sufficient 
support;  they  must  for  the  time  being  content  themselves  with 
causing  the  current  tariff  to  be  respected.  Many  of  the  large 
employers  did  not  observe  it,  although  they  themselves  had  in- 
troduced it.  Meyer  was  a  particularly  hard  case ;  he  made  use 
of  every  possible  shift  and  evasion  to  beat  down  the  clearest 

wages  bilL 

Complaints  were  continually  coming  in,  and  one  day  Pelle 
went  to  him  in  order  to  discuss  the  situation  and  come  to  some 

195 


196  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

agreement  He  was  prepared  to  fight  for  the  inyiolability  of 
the  tariff^  otherwise  Meyer  would  make  big  promises  an^  after- 
ward break  them.  He  had  really  expected  Meyer  to  show  him 
the  door ;  however,  he  did  not  do  so,  bnt  treated  him  with  a  sort 
of  polite  effrontery.  Hatred  of  his  old  enemy  awaked  in  Pelle 
anew,  and  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  control  himself.  'The  em- 
bargo will  be  declared  against  you  if  you  donH  come  to  an  ar- 
rangement with  your  workers  within  a  week,*'  he  said  threat- 
eningly. 

Meyer  laughed  contemptuously.  ''What's  that  you  say? 
Oh,  yes,  your  embargo,  we  know  something  about  that!  But 
then  the  employers  will  declare  a  lock-out  for  the  whole  trade — 
what  do  you  tMnk  of  that  ?    Old  hats  will  be  selling  cheap  !*' 

Pelle  was  silent,  and  withdrew ;  it  was  the  only  way  in  which 
he  could  succeed  in  keeping  cool.  He  had  said  what  had  to  be 
said,  and  he  was  no  diplomat,  to  smile  quietly  with  a  devil  lurk- 
ing in  the  comers  of  his  eyes. 

Meyer  obligingly  accompanied  him  to  the  door.  ^Gan  I 
oblige  you  in  any  other  way — ^with  work,  for  example  ?  I  could 
very  well  find  room  for  a  worker  who  will  make  children's  boots 
and  shoes." 

When  Pelle  reached  the  street  he  drew  a  long  breath.  Poof  I 
That  was  tough  work;  a  little  more  insolence  and  he'd  have 
given  him  one  on  the  jaw !  That  would  have  been  the  natural 
answer  to  the  fellow's  effrontery !  Well,  it  was  a  fine  test  for 
his  hot  temper,  and  he  had  stood  it  all  right !  He  could  always 
be  master  of  the  situation  if  he  held  his  tongue. 

'fNTow  suppose  we  do  put  an  embargo  on  Meyer,**  he 
thought,  as  he  went  down  the  street  "What  then  ?  Why,  then 
hell  hit  back  and  declare  a  lock-out  Gould  we  hold  out?  Not 
very  long,  but  the  employers  don't  know  that — and  then  their 
businesses  would  be  ruined.  But  then  they  would  introduce 
workers  from  abroad— or,  if  that  didn't  answer,  they  would  get 
the  work  done  elsewhere;  or  they  would  import  whole  cargoes 
of  machinery,  as  fhey  have  already  begun  to  do  on  a  small 
scale." 

Pelle  stood  still  in  the  middle  of  the  street  Damn  it  all, 
this  wouldn't  do!  He  must  take  care  that  he  didnt  make  a 
hash  of  the  whole  affair.    If  these  foreign  workers  and  machines 


THE  GREAT  STRUGGLE  197 

were  intfodnced^  a  whole  host  of  men  would  in  a  moment  be  de- 
prived of  their  living.  Bnt  he  wanted  to  have  a  go  at  Meyer ; 
there  must  be  some  means  of  giving  the  bloodsucker  a  blow  that 
he  wonld  feel  in  his  purse  I 

Next  morning  he  went  as  usual  to  Beck's.  Beck  looked  at 
him  from  over  his  spectacles.  'Tve  nothing  more  to  do  with 
you,  Pelle/*  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

''What!'*  cried  Pelle,  startled.  ''But  we've  such  a  lot  of 
work  on  hand,  master  P* 

'TTes,  but  I  can't  employ  you  any  longer.  Pm  not  doing 
this  of  my  own  free  will;  I  have  always  been  very  well  pleased 
with  you;  but  thafs  how  it  stands.  There  are  so  many  things 
one  has  to  take  into  consideration ;  a  shoemaker  can  do  nothing 
without  leather,  and  one  can't  very  well  do  without  credit  with 
the  leather  merchants." 

He  would  not  say  anything  further. 

But  Pelle  had  sufficiently  grasped  the  situation.  He  was 
the  president  of  the  Shoemakers'  Union ;  Master  Beck  had  been 
compelled  to  dismiss  him,  by  the  threat  of  stopping  his  source 
of  supplies.  Pelle  was  a  marked  man  because  he  was  at  the 
head  of  the  organization — ^although  the  latter  was  now  recog- 
nized. This  was  an  offence  against  the  right  of  combination. 
Still  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  about  the  matter;  one  had 
the  right  to  dismiss  a  man  if  one  had  no  further  need  of  him. 
Meyer  was  a  cunning  fellow  I 

For  a  time  PeUe  drifted  about  dejectedly.  He  was  by  no 
means  inclined  to  go  home  to  Ellen  with  this  melancholy  news; 
so  he  went  to  see  various  employers  in  order  to  ask  them  for 
work.  But  as  soon  as  they  heard  who  he  was  they  found  they 
had  nothing  for  him  to  do.  He  saw  that  a  black  mark  had  been 
set  against  his  name. 

So  he  must  confine  himself  to  home  work,  and  must  try  to 
hunt  up  more  acquaintances  of  his  acquaintances.  And  he  must 
be  ready  day  and  night  lest  some  small  shoemaker  who  muddled 
along  without  assistance  should  suddenly  have  more  to  do  than 
he  could  manage. 

Ellen  took  things  as  they  came,  and  did  not  complain.  But 
she  was  mutely  hostile  to  the  cause  of  their  troubles.  Pelle 
received  no  help  from  her  in  his  campaign ;  whatever  he  engaged 


198  PELLE   THE   CONQUEKOB 

in^  he  had  to  fight  it  out  alone.  This  did  not  alter  his  plans^ 
but  it  engendered  a  greater  obstinacy  in  him.  There  was  one 
side  of  his  nature  that  Ellen's  character  was  unable  to  reach; 
welly  she  was  only  a  woman,  after  alL  One  must  be  indulgent 
with  her  I  He  was  kind  to  her,  and  in  his  thoughts  he  more 
and  more  set  her  on  a  level  with  little  Lasse.  In  that  way  he 
avoided  considering  her  opinion  concerning  serious  matters — 
and  thereby  felt  more  of  a  man. 

Thanks  to  his  small  salary  as  president  of  his  TTnion,  they 
suffered  no  actual  privation.  Pelle  did  not  like  the  idea  of  ac- 
cepting this  salary;  he  felt  greatly  inclined  to  refuse  the  few 
hundred  kroner.  There  was  not  a  drop  of  bureaucratic  blood 
in  his  veins,  and  he  did  not  feel  that  a  man  should  receive  pay- 
ment for  that  which  he  accomplished  for  the  general  good.  But 
now  this  money  came  in  very  conveniently;  and  he  had  other 
things  to  do  than  to  make  mountains  out  of  molehills.  He  had 
given  up  the  embargo;  but  he  was  always  racking  his  brains 
for  some  way  of  getting  at  Meyer;  it  occupied  him  day  and 
night. 

One  day  his  thoughts  blundered  upon  Meyer's  own  tactics. 
Although  he  was  quite  innocent,  they  had  driven  him  away  from 
his  worL  How  would  it  be  if  he  were  to  employ  the  same 
method  and,  quite  secretly,  take  Meyer's  workmen  away  from 
him?  Meyer  was  the  evil  spirit  of  Ihe  shoemaker's  craft.  He 
sat  there  like  a  tyrant,  thanks  to  his  omnipotence,  and  op- 
pressed the  whole  body  of  workers.  It  would  not  be  so  impos- 
sible to  set  a  black  mark  against  his  name  I  And  Pelle  did 
not  mean  to  be  too  particular  as  to  the  means. 

He  talked  the  matter  over  with  his  father-in-law,  whose  con- 
fidence in  him  was  now  restored.  Stolpe,  who  was  an  old  ex- 
perienced tactician,  advised  him  not  to  convoke  any  meeting  on 
this  occasion,  but  to  settle  the  matter  with  each  man  face  to 
face,  so  that  the  Union  could  not  be  attacked.  ^TTou've  got 
plenty  of  time,"  he  said.  *^Qo  first  of  all  to  the  trustworthy 
feUows,  and  make  them  understand  what  sort  of  a  man  Karl 
Meyer  is ;  take  his  best  people  away  first  of  all ;  it  won't  do  him 
much  good  to  k^p  the  bad  ones.  You  can  put  the  fear  of  Ood 
into  your  mates  when  you  want  to  I  Do  your  business  so  well 
that  no  one  will  have  the  courage  any  longer  to  take  the  place 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  199 


of  those  that  leave  him.    He  must  be  branded  as  what  he  ii 
but  between  man  and  man/' 

Pelle  did  not  spare  himself;  he  went  from  one  comrade  to 
another^  fiery  and  energetic.  And  what  had  proved  impossible 
three  years  before  he  was  now  able  to  accomplish;  the  resent- 
ment of  Meyer's  injustice  had  sunk  into  the  minds  of  all. 

Meyer  had  been  in  the  habit  of  letting  his  workers  run 
about  to  no  purpose;  if  the  work  was  not  quite  ready  for  them 
they  could  call  again.  And  when  the  work  was  given  out  to 
them  they  had,  as  a  rule,  to  finish  it  with  a  rush;  there  was 
intention  in  this ;  it  made  the  people  humble  and  submissive. 

But  now  the  boot  was  on  the  otiier  leg.  The  workers  did  not 
call;  they  did  not  deliver  urgent  conmiissions  at  the  appointed 
time;  Meyer  had  to  send  to  them,  and  got  his  own  words  as 
answer;  they  were  not  quite  ready  yet,  but  they  would  see  what 
they  could  do  for  him !  He  had  to  run  after  his  own  workers 
in  order  not  to  offend  his  rich  customers.  In  the  first  instances 
he  settled  the  matter,  as  a  rule,  by  dismissal.  But  that  did  not 
help  him  at  all;  the  devil  of  arrogance  had  entered  into  the 
simple  journeymen!  It  looked  as  though  they  had  got  their 
ideas  of  master  and  subordinate  reversed !  He  had  to  give  up 
trusting  to  the  hard  hand  on  the  rein;  he  must  seek  them* out 
with  fair  words !  His  business  had  the  whole  fashionable  world 
as  customer,  and  always  required  a  staff  of  the  very  best  work- 
ers. But  not  even  friendly  approaches  availed.  Scarcely  did  he 
find  a  good  journeyman-worker  but  he  was  off  again,  and  if  he 
asked  the  reason  he  always  received  the  same  jeering  answer: 
they  didn't  feel  inclined  to  work.  He  offered  high  wages,  and 
at  great  expense  engaged  qualified  men  from  outside;  but  PeUe 
was  at  once  informed  and  immediately,  sought  them  out.  When 
they  had  been  subjected  to  his  influence  only  for  a  few  days 
they  went  back  to  the  place  they  came  from,  or  found  other 
masters,  who,  now  that  Meyer's  business  was  failing,  were  get- 
ting more  orders.  People  who  went  to  the  warehouse  said  that 
Meyer  was  raging  about  upstairs,  abusing  innocent  people  and 
driving  them  away  from  him. 

Meyer  was  conscious  of  a  hand  behind  all  this,  and  he  de- 
manded that  the  Employers'  Union  should  declare  a  lock-out. 
But  the  other  masters  scented  a  move  for  his  benefit  in  this. 


200  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEBOB 

His  own  bufiiness  was  moribimd^  so  he  wanted  to  bring  theirs  to 
a  standstill  also.  They  had  no  fundamental  objection  to  the 
new  state  of  affairs;  in  any  case  they  could  see  no  real  occasion 
for  a  lock-out. 

So  he  was  forced  to  give  in,  and  wrote  to  Pelle  requesting 
him  to  enter  into  negotiations — ^in'  order  to  put  an  end  to  the 
unrest  affecting  the  craft.  Pelle,  who  as  yet  possessed  no  skill 
in  negotiations,,  answered  Meyer  in  a  yery  casual  manner,  prac- 
tically sending  him  about  his  business.  He  showed  his  reply 
to  his  father-in-law  before  dispatching  it. 

^0,  deuce  take  it,  that  won*t  do  1**  said  Stolpe.  '*Look  you, 
my  lad,  everything  depends  on  the  tone  you  take,  if  you  are 
dealing  with  labor  politics  I  These  big  folks  think  such  a  danm 
lot  about  the  way  a  thing  is  wrapped  up!  If  I  were  setting 
about  this  business  Fd  come  out  with  the  truth  and  chuck  it  in 
their  faces — ^but  that  wont  answer;  they'd  be  so  wild  there'd 
be  no  dealing  with  them.  Just  a  nice  little  lie — ^that  answers 
much  better  I  Yes,  yes,  one  has  to  be  a  diplomatist  and  set  a 
fox  to  catch  a  fox.  Now  you  write  what  I  tell  you !  Ill  give 
you  an  example.    Now ** 

Stolpe  paced  up  and  down  the  room  a  while,  with  a  thought- 
ful expression;  he  was  in  shirt-sleeves  and  slipjfers  and  had 
thrust  both  his  forefingers  in  his  waistcoat  pockets.  ''Are  you 
ready,  son-in-law?    Then  well  begin!?* 

*To  the  President  of  the  Employers*  Union,  Herre  H.  Meyer, 
Shoemaker  to  the  Court. 

''Being  in  receipt  of  your  honored  favor  of  yesterday's  date 
hereby  acknowledged,  I  take  the  liberty  of  remarking  that  so 
far  as  is  known  to  me  complete  quiet  and  the  most  orderly  con- 
ditions prevail  throughout  the  Ixade.  There  appears  therefore 
to  be  no  motive  for  negotiation. 

Tor  the  Shoemakers'  Union, 

"Your  obedient  servant, 

"Pbllb.** 

"There,  thafs  to  the  point,  eh?  Napoleon  himself  might 
have  put  his  name  to  that!  And  there's  enough  sting  to  it^ 
too !"  said  Stolpe,  much  gratified.  "Now  write  tiiat  out  nicely, 
and  then  get  a  big  envelope." 


THE   GSBAT   STRUGGLE  201 

Pelle  felt  quite  important  when  he  had  written  this  out  on 
a  big  sheet  of  paper;  it  was  like  an  order  of  the  day  issued  by  a 
sheriff  or  burgomaster  at  home.  Only  in  respect  of  its  mali- 
ciousness he  entertained  a  certain  doubt. 

One  mornings  a  few  days  later^  he  was  sitting  at  home  work- 
ing. In  the  meantime  he  had  been  obliged  to  undertake  casual 
jobs  for  sailors  in  the  harbor^  and  now  he  was  soling  a  pair  of 
sea-boots  for  a  seaman  on  board  a  collier.  On  the^  other  side 
of  the  bench  sat  little  Lasse^  chattering  and  aping  his  move* 
mentSy  and  every  time  Pelle  drove  a  peg  home  the  youngster 
knocked  his  rattle  against  the  edge  of  the  table,  and  PeUe  smiled 
at  him.  EUen  was  running  in  and  out  between  the  living-room 
and  the  kitchen.    She  was  serious  and  silent. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  She  ran  to  the  stove,  snatph- 
ing  away  some  of  the  child's  linen  which  was  drying  there,  ran 
out,  and  opened  the  door. 

A  dark,  corpulent  gentleman  in  a  fur  overcoat  entered,  bow* 
ing,  holding  his  tall  hat  before  him,  together  with  his  gloves 
and  stick.  Pelle  could  not  believe  his  eyes — ^it  was  the  Court 
shoemaker!  '^e's  come  to  have  it  out!''  thought  Pelle,  and 
prepared  himself  for  a  tussle.  His  heart  began  to  thump,  there 
was  a  sudden  sinking  inside  him;  his  old  submissiveness  was 
on  the  point  of  coming  to  the  surface  and  mastering  him.  But 
that  was  only  for  a  moment;  then  he  was  himself  again. 
Quietly  he  offered  his  guest  a  chair. 

Meyer  sat  down,  looking  about  the  neat,  simple  room  as 
though  he  wanted  to  compare  his  enemy's  means  with  his  own 
before  he  made  a  move.  Pelle  gathered,  something  from  his 
wandering  glance,  and  suddenly  found  himself  considerably 
richer  in  his  knowledge  of  human  nature,  '^e's  sitting  there 
staring  about  him  to  see  if  something  has  gone  to  the  pawn- 
shop,**  he  thought  indignantly. 

'^*m !  I  have  received  your  favor  of  the  other  day,'*  began 
Meyer*  ^ou  are  of  opinion  that  there  is  no  occasion  for  a 
discussion  of  the  situation ;  but — ^however — ah — ^I  think " 

'That  is  certainly  my  opinion,"  answered  Pelle,  who  had 
resolved  to  adhere  to  the  tone  of  the  letter.  'Tlie  most  perfect 
order  prevails  everywhere..  But  generally  speaking  it  would  seem 
that  matters  ought  to  go  smootUy  now,  when  we  each  have  our 


202  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

Union  and  can  discuss  affairs  impartially.''    He  gazed  inno- 
cently at  Meyer.^ 

''Ah^  you  thmk  so  too  I  It  cannot  be  unknown  to  you  that 
my  workers  have  left  me  one  after  another — ^not  to  say  that 
they  were  taken  away  from  me.  Even  to  please  you  I  can't  call 
those  orderly  conditions .» 

Pelle  sat  there  getting  angrier  and  angrier  at  his  finicking 
tone.  Why  the  devil  couldn't  he  bluster  like  a  proper  man  in- 
stead of  sitting  there  and  making  his  damned  allusions?  But 
if  he  wanted  that  sort  of  foolery  he  should  have  it  I  ''Ah  I.  your 
people  are  leaving  you?"  he  said,  in  an  interested  manner. 

*They  are,"  said  Meyer,  and  he  looked  surprised.  PeUe's 
tone  made  him  feel  uncertain.  "And  they  are  playing  tricks  on 
me;  they  don't  keep  to  their  engagements,  and  they  keep  my 
messengers  running  about  to  no  purpose.  Formerly  every  man 
came  to  get  his  work  and  to  deliver  it,  but  now  I  have  to  keep 
messengers  for  that;  the  business  can't  stand  it." 

'The  journeymen  have  had  to  run  about  to  no  purpose — ^I 
myself  have  worked  for  you,"  replied  Pelle.  "But  you  are  per- 
haps of  opinion  that  we  can  better  bear  the  loss  of  time  ?" 

Meyer  shrugged  his  shoulders.  'That's  a  condition  of  your 
livelihood — ^its  conditions  are  naturaUy  based  on  order.  But  if 
only  I  could  at  least  depend  on  getting  hands !  Man,  this  can't 
go  on  I"  he  cried  suddenly,  "damn  and  blast  it  all,  it  can't  go 
on,  if  s  not  honorable !" 

Little  Lasse  gave  a  jump  and  began  to  bellow.  Ellen  came 
hurrying  in  and  took  him  into  the  bedroom. 
•  Pelle's  mouth  wis  hard.  "If  your  people  are  leaving  you, 
they  must  surely  have  some  reason  for  it,"  he  replied ;  he  would 
far  rather  have  told  Meyer  to  his  face  that  he  was  a  sweater! 
"The  Union  can't  compel  its  members  to  work  for  an  employer 
with  whom  perhaps  they  can't  agree.  I  myself  even  have  been 
dismissed  from  a  workshop— but  we  can't  bother  two  Unions  on 
those  grotmds  I"  He  looked  steadily  at  his  opponent  as  he  made 
this  thrust;  his  features  were  quivering  slightly. 

"Aha  I"  Meyer  responded,  and  he  rubbed  his  hands  with  an 
expression  that  seemed  to  say  that — ^now  at  last  he  felt  firm 
ground  under  his  feet.  "Aha — so  ifs  out  at  last!  So  you're 
a  diplomatist  into  the  bargain — a  great  diplomatist  I    You  have 


THE    GEEAT   STEUGGLE  203 

a  clever  husband,  little  lady  I^'  He  turned  to  Ellen,  who  was 
busying  herself  at  the  sideboard.  **Now  just  listen,  Herre  Pelle ! 
You  are  just  the  man  for  me,  and  we  must  come  to  an  arrange- 
ment. When  two  capable  men  get  talking  together  something 
always  comes  of  it — ^it  couldnH  be  otherwise  1  I  have  room  for 
a  capable  and  inteUigent  expert  who  understands  fitting  and 
cutting.  The  place*  is  well  paid,  and  you  can  have  a  written 
contract  for  a  term  of  years.    What  do  you  say  to  that?'' 

Pelle  raised  his  head  with  a  start.  Ellen's  eyes  b^an  to 
sparkle,  and  then  became  mysteriously  dark;  they  rested  on  him 
compellingly,  as  though  they  would  bum  their  purpose  into  him. 
For  a  moment  he  gazed  before  him,  bewildered.  The  offer  was 
so  overpowering,  so  surprising;  and  then  he  laughed.  What, 
what,  was  he  to  sell  himself  to  be  the  imderstrapper  of  a 
sweater  I 

''That  won't  do  for  me,"  he  replied. 

'TTou  must  naturally  consider  my  offer,"  said  Meyer,  rising. 
''Shall  we  say  three  days?" 

When  the  Court  shoemaker  had  gone,  Ellen  came  slowly 
back  and  laid  her  arm  round  Pelle's  shoulders.  "What  a  clever, 
capable  man  you  are,  then  I"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  playing 
with  his  hair;  there  was  something  apologetic  in  her  manner. 
She  said  nothing  to  call  attention  to  the  offer,  but  she  began 
to  sing  at  her  work.  It  was  a  long  time  since  Pelle  had  heard 
her  sing;  and  the  song  was  to  him  like  a  radiant  assurance  that 
this  time  he  would  be  the  victor. 


Pellb  continned  the  straggle  indef  atigably^  contending  with 
opposing  circumstances  and  with  disloyalty,  but  always  return- 
ing more  boldly  to  the  charge.  Many  times  in  the  course  of 
the  conflict  he  found  himself  back  at  the  same  place;  Meyer 
obtained  a  new  lot  of  workers  from  abroad,  and  he  had  to  begin 
all  over  again;  he  had  to  work  on  them  until  they  went  away 
again,  or  to  make  their  position  among  their  housemates  so  im- 
possible that  they  resigned.  The  later  winter  was  hard  and 
came  to  Meyer's  assistance.  He  paid  his  workers  well  now, 
and  had  brought  together  a  crowd  of  non-union  hands;  for  a 
time  it  looked  as  though  he  would  get  his  business  going  again. 
But  Pelle  had  left  the  non-unionists  alone  only  through  lack  of 
time;  now  he  began  to  seek  than  out,  and  he  spoke  with  more 
authority  than  before.  Already  people  were  remarking  on  his 
strength  of  will;  and  most  of  them  surrendered  beforehand. 
'The  devil  couldn't  stand  up  against  him !''  they  said.  He  never 
wavered  in  his  faith  in  an  ultimate  victory,  but  went  straight 
ahead;  he  did  not  philosophize  about  the  other  aspect  of  the 
result,  but  devoted  all  his  energies  to  achieving  it.  He  was 
actuated  by  sheer  robust  energy,  and  it  led  him  the  shortest  way. 
The  members  of  the  Union  followed  him  willingly,  and  willingly 
accepted  the  privations  involved  in  the  emptying  of  the  work- 
shops. He  possessed  their  confidence,  and  they  found  that  it 
was,  after  aU,  glorious  sport  to  turn  the  tables,  when  for  once 
in  a  way  they  could  bring  the  grievance  home  to  its  point  of 
departure  1  They  knew  by  bitter  experience  what  it  was  to  run 
about  to  no  purpose,  to  b^  for  work,  and  to  beg  for  their  wages, 
and  to  haggle  over  them — ^in  short,  to  be  the  imderdog.  It  was 
amusing  to  reverse  the  r61es.  Now  tlie  mouse  was  playing  with 
the  cat  and  having  a  rattling  good  time  of  it — although  the 
claws  did  get  home  now  and  again ! 

204 


THE   GEEAT   STBUGGLE  206 

Pelle  felt  their  confidence^  the  trust  of  one  and  all,  in  the 
readiness  with  which  they  followed  him,  as  though  he  were 
only  the  expression  of  their  own  convictions.  And  when  he 
stood  up  at  the  general  meetings  or  conferences,  in  order  to 
make  a  report  or  to  conduct  an  agitation,  and  the  applause  of 
his  comrades  fell  upon  his  ears,  he  felt  an  influx  of  sheer  power. 
He  was  like  the  ram  of  a  ship;  the  weight  of  the  whole  was 
behind  him.  He  began  to  feel  that  he  was  the  expression  of 
something  great;  that  there  was  a  purpose  within  him. 

The  Pelle  who  dealt  so  quietly  and  cleverly  with  Meyer  and 
achieved  precisely  what  he  willed  was  not  the  usual  Pelle.  A 
greater  nature  was  working  within  him,  with  more  responsi- 
bility, according  to  his  old  presentiment  He  tested  himself,  in 
order  to  assimilate  this  as  a  conviction,  and  he  felt  that  there 
was  virtue  in  the  idea. 

This  higher  nature  stood  in  mystical  connection  with  so 
much  in  his  life ;  far  back  into  his  diildhood  he  could  trace  it, 
as  an  abundant  promise.  So  many  had  involuntarily  expected 
something  from  him;  he  had  listened  to  them  witii  wonder, 
but  now  their  expectation  was  proving  prophetic. 

He  paid  strict  attention  to  his  words  in  his  personal  rela- 
tions, now  that  their  illimitable  importance  had  been  revealed 
to  him.  But  in  his  agitator's  work  the  strongest  words  came 
to  him  most  naturally;  came  like  an  echo  out  of  the  illimitable 
void  that  lay  behind  him.  He  busied  himself  with  his  person- 
ality. All  that  had  hitherto  had  free  and  careless  play  must 
now  be  circumscribed  and  made  to  serve  an  end.  He  exam- 
ined his  relations  with  Ellen,  was  indulgent  to  her,  and  took 
pains  to  understand  her  demand  for  happiness.  He  was  kind 
and  gentle  to  her,  but  inflexible  in  his  resolve. 

He  had  no  conscientious  scruples  in  respect  of  the  Court 
shoemaker.  Meyer  had  in  all  respects  misused  his  omnipotence 
long  enough;  owing  to  his  huge  business  he  had  made  conditions 
and  ruled  tiiem;  and  the  evil  of  those  conditions  must  be 
brought  home  to  him.  It  was  now  summer  and  a  good  time  for 
the  workers,  and  his  business  was  rapidly  failing.  Pelle  fore- 
saw his  fall,  and  felt  himself  to  be  a  righteous  avenger. 

The  year-long  conflict  absorbed  his  whole  mind.  He  was 
always  on  his  feet;  came  rushing  home  to  the  work  that  lay 


206  PELLE   THE    CONQUEROR 

there  waiting  for  him,  threw  it  aside  like  a  maniac,  and  hur- 
ried off  again.  He  did  not  see  much  of  Ellen  and  Uttle  Lasse 
these  days ;  they  lived  their  own  life  without  him. 

He  dared  not  rest  on  what  he  had  accomplished,  now  that 
the  cohesion  of  the  Union  was  so  powerful.  He  was  always 
seeking  means  to  strengthen  and  to  imdermine ;  he  did  not  wish 
to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  unforeseen.  His  indefatigahility  in- 
fected his  comrades,  they  hecame  more  eager  the  longer  the 
struggle  lasted.  The  conflict  was  magnified  by  the  sacrifice  it 
demanded,  and  by  the  strength  of  the  opposition ;  Meyer  grad- 
ually became  a  colossus  whom  all  must  stake  their  welfare  to 
hew  down.  Families  were  ruined  thereby,  but  the  more  sacrifice 
the  struggle  demanded  the  more  recklessly  they  struggled  on. 
And  they  were  full  of  jubilation  on  the  day  when  the  colossus 
fell,  and  buried  some  of  them  in  his  fall ! 

Pelle  was  the  undisputed  victor.  The  journeyman-cobbler 
had  laid  low  the  biggest  employer  in  the  trade.  They  did  not 
ask  what  the  victory  had  cost,  but  carried  his  name  in  triumph. 
They  cheered  when  they  caught  sight  of  him  or  when  his  name 
was  mentioned.  Formerly  this  would  have  turned  his  head,  but 
now  he  regarded  his  success  as  entirely  natural — as  tiie  expres- 
sion of  a  higher  power! 

A  few  days  later  he  summoned  a  general  meeting  of  tiie 
Union,  laid  before  them  the  draft  of  a  new  tariff  which  was 
adapted  to  the  times,  and  proposed  that  they  should  at  once 
begin  the  fight  for  its  adoption.  ''We  could  never  have  a  better 
opportunity,''  he  sai^.  ''Now  they  have  seen  what  we  can  do  I 
With  the  tariff  question  we  struck  down  Meyer  I  We  must 
strike  the  iron  while  it  is  hot!'' 

He  reckoned  that  his  comrades  were  just  in  the  mood  for 
battle,  despite  all  the  privations  that  the  struggle  had  entailed, 
and  he  was  not  mistaken.  His  proposal  was  unanimously 
accepted. 

But  there  was  no  fight  for  better  wages.  Meyer  was  now 
making  the  rounds  of  the  employers'  establishments  with  the 
sample-box  of  one  of  the  leather  firms.  The  sight  of  this  once 
so  mighty  man  had  a  stimulating  effect.  The  masters'  Union 
appointed  a  few  employers  with  whom  the  workers'  Union  could 
discuss  the  question  of  the  tariff. 


It  often  happened  that  Pelle  wotQd  look  back  with  longing 
on  his  quiet  home-life  with  Ellen  and  the  child^  and  he  felt 
dejectedly  that  they  lived  in  a  happier  world,  and  were  on  the 
point  of  accustoming  themselves  to  live  without  him.  ^'When 
once  you  have  got  this  out  of  hand  you  can  live  really  com- 
fortably with  them  again,"  he  thought. 

But  one  thing  inevitably  followed  on  another,  and  one  ques- 
tion arose  from  the  solution  of  another,  and  the  poor  man's 
world  imf olded  itself  like  the  development  of  a  story.  The  fame 
of  his  skill  as  organizer  spread  itself  abroad;  everywhere  men 
were  at  work  with  the  idea  of  closing  up  the  ranks,  and  many 
b^an  to  look  toward  him  with  expectant  eyes. 

Frequently  workers  came  to  him  begging  him  to  help  them 
to  form  an  organization — ^no  one  had  such  a  turn  for  the  work 
as  he.  Then  they  called  a  meeting  together,  and  Pelle  explained 
the  process  to  them.  There  was  a  certain  amount  of  f anciful- 
ness  and  emphasis  in  his  speech,  but  they  understood  him  very 
well.  "He  talks  so  as  to  make  your  ears  itch,''  they  told  one 
another.  He  was  the  man  they  trusted,  and  he  initiated  them 
into  the  practical  side  of  the  matter. 

'TBut  you  must  sacrifice  your  wages — so  that  you  can  start 
a  fund,"  he  told  them  continually;  *Vithout  money  nothing  can 
be  done.    Remember,  it's  capital  itself  we  are  fighting  against !" 

''Will  it  be  any  use  to  understand  boxing  when  the  fight 
comes  on  ?"  asked  a  simple-minded  workman  one  day. 

'TTes— cash-boxing  I"  retorted  Pelle  swiftly.  They  laughed, 
and  turned  their  pitiful  pockets  inside  out.  They  gazed  a  mo- 
ment at  the  money  before  they  gave  it  away.  ''Oh,  well,  it's  of 
no  consequence,"  they  said. 

'TThe  day  will  soon  come  when  it  will  be  of  consequence — ^if 
we  only  hang  together,"  said  Pelle  confidently. 

It  was  the  dripping  they  had  scraped  oflE  their  bread — ^he 
knew  that  well,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it !  In  these  days  he 
was  no  better  situated  than  they  were. 

207 


208  •     PELLE    THE    CONQUEROR 

His  activities  were  leading  him  abroad,  in  wider  and  wider 
circles,  until  he  found  himself  at  length  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
masses.  Their  number  did  not  astonish  him;  he  had  always 
really  been  conscious  of  that.  And  he  grew  by  this  contact,  and 
measured  himself  and  the  movement  by  an  ever-increasing 
standard. 

At  this  time  he  underwent  a  noticeable  change  in  his  outer 
man.  In  his  forehead  were  always  those  deep  creases  which  in 
young  men  speak  of  a  gloomy  childhood;  they  were  the  only 
bitter  token  of  that  which  he  had  taken  upon  himself,  and 
reminded  one  of  a  clouded  sky.  Otherwise  he  looked  fresh 
and  healthy  enough;  his  hard  life  was  not  undermining  his 
strength;  he  thrived  on  the  sense  of  community,  and  was  almost 
always  cheerful.  His  cheeks  grew  round  as  tiiose  of  a  comet- 
player,  and  his  distended  nostrils  spoke  of  his  fiery  zeal;  he 
needed  much  air,  and  always  wore  his  clothes  open  upon  his 
chest.  His  carriage  was  upright  and  elastic ;  his  whole  appear- 
ance was  arresting,  challenging.  When  he  spoke  at  meetings 
there  was  energy  in  his  words;  he  grew  deeply  flushed,  and  wet 
with  perspiration.  Something  of  this  flush  remained  in  his 
face  and  neck,  and  there  was  always  a  feeling  of  heat  in  his 
body.  When  he  strode  forward  he  looked  like  a  trumpeter 
at  the  head  of  a  column. 

The  many — ^that  was  his  element.  There  were  many  who 
were  to  be  brought  under  one  hat.  Yet  most  of  them  lacked  a 
clear  imderstanding;old  suspicions  suddenly  came  to  light;  and 
many  doubts  were  abroad  among  the  masses.  Some  believed 
blindly;  others  said,  *T!t's  all  one  whether  this  party  or  that 
does  the  plucking  of  us  I*'  Nothing  of  palpable  importance  oc- 
curred, such  as  to  catch  the  eye;  but  they  came  to  trust  in  his 
personality  as  the  blind  man  trusts  his  leader,  and  they  were 
forever  demanding  to  hear  his  voice.  Pelle  became  their  darling 
speaker.  He  felt  that  their  blind  confidence  bore  him  up,  and 
for  them  he  gazed  far  over  the  hubbub  and  confusion.  He  had 
always  been  a  familiar  of  Fortune;  now  he  saw  it  plainly,  far 
out  along  the  route  of  march,  and  infiamed  than  all  with  his 
enthusiasm. 

One  evening  he  was  summoned  to  rouse  a  calling  tiiat  was  in 
low  water.    It  was  the  dustmen  who  applied  to  him.    In  order 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE     •  209 

to  stimulate  their  self-K^onsciousness  he  showed  them  what  a 
vast  power  they  possessed  in  their  despised  activity.  He  im- 
agined^ as  an  example,  that  they  refused  to  work,  and  painted, 
with  much  humor,  the  results  which  their  action  would  have  for 
the  world  of  rich  people.  This  had  a  tremendous  effect  on  the 
meeting.  The  men  stared  at  one  another  as  if  they  had  just 
discovered  themselves,  and  then  sat  laughing  like  one  man.  To 
follow  up  his  effect,  he  showed  how  one  kind  of  work  depends 
on  another,  and  imagined  one  calling  to  support  another,  until 
a  general  strike  had  laid  its  paralyzing  hand  on  the  city.  What 
a  fantastic  picture  it  was !  PeUe  knew  nothing  of  the  theory  of 
the  labor  movement,  but  his  energy  and  enthusiasm  lifted  the 
veil  from  the  remotest  consequences.  Stimulated  and  startled 
by  the  terrible  power  which  lay  in  their  hands^  the  dustmen 
went  home. 

There  was  something  in  all  this  that  did  not  satisfy  him; 
it  was  in  his  nature  to  create,  not  to  destroy.  But  if  only  the 
poor  would,  they  could  make  society  all  over  again — so  Morten 
had  one  day  said,  and  the  words  had  never  ceased  to  haunt 
Pellets  mind.  But  he  could  not  endure  the  idea  of  violent  revo- 
lution ;  and  now  he  had  found  a  good  way  out  of  his  difficuliy. 
He  felt  convinced  that  cohesion  was  irresistible,  and  that  life 
would  imdergo  a  peaceful  change. 

He  had  welded  his  own  Union  together  so  that  the  members 
hung  together  through  thick  and  thin.  He  had  accomplished 
something  there,  but  if  a  real  result  were  to  be  achieved  the 
Unions  here  must  work  in  conjimction  with  those  of  all  the 
cities  in  the  coxmtry,  and  that  was  being  done  to  a  certain 
small  extent,  in  his  own  trade  as  well  as  in  others.  But  aU 
these  federations  of  local  Unions  must  be  combined  in  a  mighty 
whole,  so  that  the  whole  country  would  be  of  one  single  mind. 
In  other  countries  matters  were  progressing  as  here,  so  why  not 
summon  all  countries  to  one  vast  work  of  cooperation  ? 

Before  Pelle  was  aware,  he  had  included  the  whole  world  in 
his  solidarity.  He  knew  now  that  poverty  is  international.  And 
he  was  convinced  that  the  poor  man  felt  alike  all  the  world 
over. 

The  greatness  of  this  idea  did  not  go  to  his  head.  It  had 
evolved  naturally  on  the  lines  of  his  own  organization — ^it  was 


210  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

JTist  like  the  idea  at  the  base  of  the  latter.  But  he  continued  to 
play  with  it  until  it  assumed  a  definite  form.  Then  he  went 
witii  his  plan  to  his  father-in-law,  who  was  a  member  of  the 
party  executive,  and  through  him  was  invited  to  lay  the  matter 
before  the  Central  Committee. 

Pelle  was  a  practised  speaker  by  now,  but  he  was  feverishly 
excited  when  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  actual  heart  of  the 
labor  movement.  His  words  delighted  the  many,  but  would  he 
succeed  in  winning  over  these  tried  and  experienced  men,  the 
leaders  who  stood  behind  the  whole  movement,  while  quietly 
going  about  their  own  business?  He  felt  that  this  was  the  most 
significant  day  in  his  life. 

These  were  men  with  quieter  temperaments  than  his  own. 
They  sat  there  immovable,  listening  with  half -closed  eyes;  his 
big  words  brought  the  faintest  smile  to  their  lips — ^they  had 
long  got  over  that  sort  of  thing !  They  were  artisans  and  crafts- 
men who  worked  hard  all  day  for  a  living,  as  did  he  himself, 
but  several  of  them  had  given  themselves  a  considerable  edu- 
cation; they  must  be  regarded  as  scholarly  persons.  In  the 
evening  and  on  Sundays  they  worked  for  the  Cause,  devising 
political  schemes  and  devoting  themselves  to  keeping  accounts 
and  the  ever-increasing  work  of  administration.  They  were 
awkward  at  these  unaccustomed  tasks,  which  had  hitherto  been 
reserved  by  quite  a  different  class  of  society,  and  had  had  to 
grow  accustomed  thereto;  their  heads  were  gray  and  wrinkled. 

Pelle  felt  that  he  was  still  only  at  the  beginning.  These 
men  gave  him  the  impression  of  a  great  secret  council ;  outside 
they  looked  like  any  one  else,  but  here  at  the  green  table  they 
sat  creating  the  vast  organization  into  which  he  merely  drove 
the  masses.  Here  high  politics  came  into  play.  There  was 
something  impious  in  this — as  though  one  saw  ants  making 
plans  to  overturn  a  mountain;  and  he  must  do  the  same  if  he 
wanted  to  accomplish  anything !  But  here  something  more  than 
big  words  was  needed!  He  involuntarily  moderated  his  tone 
and  did  his  best  to  speak  in  a  dry,  professional  manner. 

He  received  no  applause  when  he  had  finished;  the  men  sat 
there  gazing  in  front  of  them  with  a  slightly  pondering  expres- 
sion. The  silence  and  the  great  empty  room  had  the  effect  of 
making  him  feel  dizzy.    All  his  faculties  were  directed  outward, 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  211 

drawing  strength  from  the  echo  from  without  of  the  many  who 
had  shaped  him.  But  at  this  decisive  moment  they  were  silent, 
leaving  him  in  suspense,  without  any  kind  of  support.  Was  the 
whole  stupendous  plan  of  federation  a  piece  of  madness,  and 
was  he  a  fool  to  propoxmd  it?  No  one  replied.  The  leaders 
quietly  asked  him  the  details  of  his  plan,  and  undertook  to 
consider  it. 

Pelle  left  in  a  state  of  dreadful  suspense.  He  felt  that  he 
had  touched  upon  something  on  which  a  great  decision  de- 
pended, and  he  wanted  corroboration  of  the  fact  that  he  had  set 
about  tiie  matter  rightly.  In  this  moment  of  need  he  turned  to 
himself.  It  was  not  his  way  to  ask  questions  of  his  inner  self, 
but  now  no  other  could  answer  him.  He  must  look  to  himself 
for  recognition. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  Pelle  had  sought  refuge  in  his 
own  ^0,  or  learned  to  fall  back  upon  it  in  critical  moments. 
But  solitude  did  not  suit  him  and  he  sought  it  only  under  the 
compulsion  of  necessity.  His  heart  beat  imcontrollably  within 
him  when  he  learned  that  his  plan  was  approved.  A  commit- 
tee was  appointed  to  put  it  into  execution,  and  Pelle  was  on 
the  committee. 

At  one  stroke  the  National  Federation  made  a  single  army 
of  the  many  divisions,  and  was  eflfective  merely  by  the  attrac- 
tive virtue  of  its  mass.  It  became  a  heavy  and  fatiguing  task 
to  organize  the  swarms  that  came  streaming  in,  as  water  rushes 
to  the  sea,  by  virtue  of  a  natural  law.  It  needed  the  talent  of 
a  great  general  to  marshal  them  for  a  conclusive  battle  and  to 
lead  them  into  the  line  of  fire. 

Pelle  was  naturally  placed  in  the  front  ranks  of  the  organi- 
zation; his  work  was  properly  that  of  the  pioneer  and  agitator; 
no  one  possessed  the  ear  of  the  crowd  as  he  did.  He  had  re- 
ceived regular  employment  from  one  of  the  larger  employers, 
which  amounted  to  a  recognition  of  the  organization,  and  the 
increased  rate  of  wages  meant  that  he  earned  a  moderate  in- 
come. He  did  not  object  to  the  fact  that  the  work  had  to  be 
done  away  from  home.  Life  at  home  had  lost  its  radiance. 
EUen  was  loving  enough,  but  she  had  always  some  purpose  in 
view — and  he  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  tied ! 

When  he  went  home — and  as  a  rule  he  managed  to  include 


ai8  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROE 

a  meal — ^it  was  only  to  make  himself  ready  and  to  rush  oat 
again — ^to  general  or  committee  meetings.  Father  Lasse  was 
there  as  a  rule  in  the  evenings,  and  he  gazed  longingly  after 
Pelle  when  the  latter  left  his  wife  and  child;  he  did  not  imder- 
stand  it>  but  he  did  not  venture  to  say  anything — ^he  felt  a 
great  respect  for  the  lad's  undertakings.  Ellen  and  the  old 
man  had  discovered  one  another ;  they  were  like  a  pair  of  horses 
in  harness;  there  was  a  great  consolation  in  that. 

Pelle  went  forward  in  a  sort  of  intoxication  of  power,  pro- 
duced by  the  sense  of  the  multiplying  hosts.  He  was  like  an 
embodiment  of  those  hosts,  and  he  heard  their  step  echoing  in 
his  own ;  it  was  natural  that  the  situation  should  assume  large 
dimensions.  He  was  a  product  of  an  ancient  culture,  but  a 
culture  that  had  always  dwelt  in  the  shadow,  and  was  based  on 
stem  and  narrow  tenets,  each  of  which  summed  up  a  lifetime 
of  bitter  experience.  The  need  of  light  and  sunshine,  contin- 
ually suppressed,  had  been  accumulating,  through  illimitable 
years,  imtil  it  had  resulted  in  a  monstrous  tension.  Now  it  had 
exploded,  and  was  mounting  dizzily  upward.  His  mind  was 
reeling  in  the  heights,  in  a  blinding  cloud  of  light  1 

But  f  undamentaUy  he  was  still  the  sturdy  realist  and  stood 
with  his  feet  on  the  earth !  The  generations  beneath  him  had 
been  disciplined  by  the  cold,  and  had  learned  to  content  them- 
selves with  bare  necessities;  a  lesson  which  they  handed  down 
to  him,  simply  and  directly,  with  no  inheritance  of  frivolity. 
In  his  world,  cause  and  effect  were  in  a  direct  line;  an  obtru- 
sive odor  did  not  translate  itself  into  a  spectral  chattering  of 
the  teeth.  The  result  was  in  a  direct  line  with  the  cause — 
but  their  relation  was  often  that  of  the  match  and  the  bonfire. 
Herein  lay  the  strength  of  his  imagination;  this  was  why  he 
could  encompass  all  things  with  so  simple  a  preparation. 

He  was  not  afraid  to  consider  the  fate  of  the  masses;  when 
he  could  not  see  ahead,  his  old  fatalism  came  to  his  help.  ELis 
words  flamed  high  despite  himself  and  kept  the  hope  alive  in 
many  who  did  not  themselves  imderstand  the  meaning  of  the 
whole  movement,  but  saw  that  its  adherents  grew  ever  more 
numerous,  and  that  in  other  respects  they  were  just  as  well  off. 
Where  he  himself  could  not  see  he  was  like  a  lens  that  collects 
the  half -darkness  and  gives  it  out  again  as  a  beam  of  light. 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  213 

Morten  he  preferred  to  ayoid.  Pelle  had  gradually  absorbed 
all  the  theories  of  the  labor  moTement^  and  they  comfortably 
filled  his  mind.  And  how  cotdd  one  accomplish  more  than  by 
remaining  in  harmony  with  the  whole  ?  Morten  had  an  nnf  ruit- 
ful  tendency  to  undermine  the  certainty  of  one's  mind;  he  al- 
ways brought  forth  his  words  from  his  inner  conscionsnesSy 
£rom  places  where  no  one  else  had  ever  been,  and  he  delivered 
them  as  though  they  had  been  God's  voice  in  the  Bible,  which 
always  made  people  pause  in  their  designs.  Pelle  respected  his 
peculiar  nature,  which  never  marched  with  the  crowd,  and 
avoided  him. 

But  his  thoughts  often  returned  to  him.  Morten  had  first 
thrown  a  light  upon  chaos — upon  the  knowledge  of  Pelle's 
world,  the  poor  man's  world;  and  when  he  was  confronted  by 
any  decisive  question  he  involuntarily  asked  himself  how  Mor- 
ten would  have  dealt  with  it. 

At  times  they  met  at  meetings  called  together  by  the  work- 
ers themselves,  and  at  which  they  both  collaborated.  Morten 
had  no  respect  for  the  existing  laws  and  little  for  the  new. 
He  did  not  play  a  very  zealous  part  in  the  work  of  party  organ- 
ization, and  was  rather  held  at  arm's  length  by  the  leaders* 
But  his  relations  with  the  man  in  the  street  were  of  the  closest. 
He  worked  independently ;  there  was  scarcely  his  match  in  indi- 
vidual cases  of  need  or  injustice;  and  he  was  always  laboring  to 
make  people  think  for  themselves. 

And  tiiey  loved  him.  They  looked  up  to  Pelle  and  the  rest, 
and  made  way  for  them  with  shining  eyes ;  but  they  smilingly 
put  themselves  in  Morten's  way.  They  wanted  to  press  his  hand 
— ^he  could  scarcely  make  his  way  to  the  speaker's  platform.  His 
pale  face  filled  them  with  joy — ^women  and  children  hung  on 
to  him.  When  he  passed  through  the  streets  of  the  poor  quar- 
ters in  his  simple  clothes,  the  women  smiled  at  him.  '^liiaf  s 
him,  the  master-journeyman,  who  is  so  good  and  so  book- 
learned,"  they  would  say.  ''And  now  he  has  sold  all  his  books 
in  order  to  help  a  poor  child  1"  And  they  gave  their  own  chil- 
dren a  little  push,  and  the  children  went  up  to  him  and  held 
out  their  hands  and  followed  him  right  to  the  end  of  the 
street 


When  Pelle  went  now  and  again  to  the  ^AA^**  to  see  his 
brothers  and  sister,  the  news  of  his  visit  spread  quickly  through 
the  building.  'Telle  is  here  1*'  sounded  from  gallery  to  gallery, 
and  they  hurried  up  the  stairs  in  order  to  nod  to  him  and  to 
seek  to  entice  him  to  swaUow  a  cup  of  coffee.  Old  Madam 
Frandsen  had  moved;  she  disappeared  when  Ferdinand  came 
out  of  prison — ^no  one  knew  whitiier.  Otherwise  there  were  no 
changes.  A  few  factory  women  left  by  night  on  account  of 
their  rent,  and  others  had  taken  their  places.  And  from  time 
to  time  some  one  completed  his  term,  and  was  carried  out  of 
the  dark  corridors  and  borne  away  on  the  dead-cart — as  always. 
But  in  the  ''Ark*'  there  was  no  change  to  be  observed. 

It  happened  one  day  that  he  went  over  to  call  on  Widow 
Johnsen.  She  looked  very  melancholy  sitting  there  as  she 
turned  her  old  soldiers'  trousers  and  attended  to  Hanne's  child, 
which  promised  to  be  a  fine  girl.  She  had  aged ;  she  was  always 
sitting  at  home  and  scolding  the  child ;  when  Pelle  visited  her 
he  brought  a  breath  of  fresh  air  into  her  joyless  existence.  Then 
she  recaUed  the  excursion  to  the  forest,  and  the  cozy  evenings 
under  the  hanging  lantern,  and  sighed.  Hanne  never  looked  at 
Pelle.  When  she  came  running  home  from  the  factory,  she 
had  no  eyes  for  anything  but  her  little  girl,  who  threw  herself 
upon  her  mother  and  immediately  wanted  to  play.  For  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  the  child  was  close  imder  her  eyes,  and 
Hanne  had  to  hold  her  hand  as  she  moved  about,  and  play  witii 
her  and  the  dolL 

'^ar  up  tbe  mountain  did  I  dlmb,** 

sang  Hanne,  and  tiie  child  sang  with  her — she  could  sing  al- 
ready!   Hanne's  clear,  quiet  eyes  rested  on  the  child,  and  her 

214 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  216 

ezpreseion  was  as  joyful  as  though  fortune  had  really  come  to 
her.  She  was  like  a  young  widow  who  has  liyed  her  share  of 
life^  and  in  the  ''Ark''  every  one  addressed  her  as  Widow  Hanne. 
This  was  a  mark  of  respect  paid  to  her  character ;  they  threw  a 
widow's  veil  over  her  fate  because  she  bore  it  so  finely.  She 
had  expected  so  much^  and  now  she  centered  everything  in  her 
child^  as  though  the  Stranger  could  have  brought  her  no  more 
valuable  present. 

Peter's  misfortune  had  struck  the  little  home  a  serious  blow. 
They  had  always  only  just  kept  their  heads  above  water;  and 
now  he  earned  less  than  ever  with  his  crippled  hand.  Karl 
wanted  to  get  on  in  the  world,  and  was  attending  confirmation 
classes,  which  cost  money  and  clothes.  They  had  made  up  for 
Peter's  loss  of  earning  power  by  giving  up  Father  Lasse's  room 
and  moving  his  bed  into  their  own  room.  But  all  three  were 
growing,  and  needed  food  and  clothing. 

Peter's  character  had  taken  on  a  little  kink;  he  was  no 
longer  so  cheerful  over  his  work,  and  he  often  played  the  tru- 
ant, loafing  about  the  streets  instead  of  going  to  the  factory. 
Sometimes  he  could  not  be  got  out  of  bed  in  the  morning;  he 
crept  under  the  bedclothes  and  hid  himself,  'fl  can't  work  with 
my  bad  hand,"  he  would  say,  crying,  when  Marie  wanted  to  drag 
him  out;  ''every  moment  tiie  knives  are  quite  close  to  it  and 
nearly  chop  it  oflf." 

"Then  stay  at  home  I"  said  Marie  at  last.  "Look  after  the 
house  and  I  will  go  out  and  see  if  I  can  earn  something.  I  can 
get  work  as  a  charwoman  in  the  new  buildings  in  Market 
Street." 

But  at  that  he  got  up  and  slunk  away;  he  would  not  allow 
a  woman  to  earn  his  food  for  him. 

Karl  was  a  brisk,  merry  young  vagabond ;  nothing  made  any 
impression  on  him.  The  streets  had  brought  him  up,  had  cov- 
ered his  outer  man  with  a  coating  of  grime,  and  had  lit  the 
inextinguishable  sparks  in  his  eyes.  He  was  like  the  sparrows 
of  the  capital ;  black  witii  soot,  but  full  of  an  urban  sharpness, 
they  slip  in  and  out  among  the  heavy  wagon-wheels,  and  know 
everything.  He  was  always  getting  into  diflSculties,  but  always 
came  home  witii  a  whole  skin.  His  continual  running  about 
seemed  to  have  got  into  his  blood  like  a  never-resting  impulse. 


216  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

He  was  lull  of  shifts  for  lessening  the  uneertaint;  of  his  earn- 
ings^ and  the  little  household  depended  principally  on  him.  But 
now  he  had  had  enough  of  seeldng  his  liying  in  the  streets;  he 
wanted  to  get  on;  he  wanted  most  of  aU  to  be  a  shopkeeper. 
The  only  thing  tiiat  held  him  back  was  his  regard  for  his 
home. 

Pelle  saw  that  the  little  home  would  have  to  be  broken  up. 
Marie  was  developing  rapidly;  she  must  leave  the  '^Ark/'  and 
if  Earl  could  not  live  his  own  life,  but  was  forced  to  sacrifice 
himself  to  his  brother  and  sister,  he  would  end  as  a  street- 
loafer.  Pelle  resolved  suddenly  to  deal  with  the  matter  himself, 
as  his  habit  was.  He  obtained  an  outfit  for  Karl  from  a  char- 
itable society,  and  placed  him  as  apprentice  with  a  shopkeeper 
for  whom  t^e  boy  had  run  errands. 

One  Sunday  afternoon  he  went  over  to  the  '^Ark**  with  a  big 
parcel  under  his  arm.  He  was  holding  Young  Lasse  by  the 
hand;  every  moment  the  child  stooped  down,  picked  up  a  little 
stone,  dra^^  his  father  to  the  quay-wall,  and  threw  the  stone 
into  the  water.    He  chattered  incessantly. 

Pelle  mechanically  allowed  himself  to  be  pulled  aside,  and 
answered  the  child  at  random.  He  was  thinking  of  the  chil- 
dren's little  home,  which  had  once  been  so  hospitably  opened  to 
him,  and  must  now  be  broken  up.  Perhaps  it  would  be  the  sal- 
vation of  Earl  and  Marie;  there  was  a  future  for  them  outside; 
they  were  both  young  and  courageous.  And  Father  Lasse 
could  come  to  him;  it  would  be  quite  possible  to  make  up  his 
bed  in  the  living-room  at  night  and  put  it  out  of  the  way  in 
the  daytime.  EUen  was  no  longer  so  particular.  But  Peter — 
what  was  to  become  of  him?  The  home  was  the  only  thing 
that  still  held  him. 

When  Young  Lasse  looked  through  the  tunnel-entry  into 
the  darkness  of  the  "Ark*'  he  did  not  want  to  go  in.  *TJgly, 
ugly  f'  he  said,  in  energetic  refusal.  Pelle  had  to  take  him  in 
his  arms,  ^^asse  not  like  that!"  he  said,  pushing  with  his 
hands  against  his  father's  shoulders.  'Tiasse  wants  to  go  bads ! 
get  down  1" 

''What!"  said  Pelle,  laughing,  "doesn't  Young  Lasse  like 
the 'Ark'?    Father  thinks  if s  jolly  here !" 

"Why  ?"  asked  the  boy,  pouting. 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  817 

*n^y?^  Well,  Pelle  could  not  at  once  explain.  '^Because 
I  lived  here  once  on  a  time  1''  he  replied. 

"And  where  was  Young  Lasse  tiienP' 

"Then  you  used  to  sit  in  mother's  eyes  and  laugh  at  father.'' 

At  this  the  child  forgot  his  fear  of  the  darkness  and  the. 
heavy  timbers.  He  pressed  his  round  little  nose  against  his 
father's,  and  gazed  into  his  eyes^  in  order  to  see  whether  a 
little  boy  was  sitting  in  them  too.  He  laughed  when  he 
glimpsed  himself  in  them.  ''Who  sits  in  mother's  eyes  now?" 
he  asked. 

"Now  a  little  sister  sits  there,  who  likes  to  play  with  Young 
Lasse,"  said  Pelle.  "But  now  you  must  walk  again — ^it  doesn't 
do  for  a  man  to  sit  on  anybody's  arm  I" 

The  three  orphans  were  waiting  for  him  eagerly;  Earl 
hopped  and  leaped  into  the  air  when  he  saw  Pelle. 

"Where  is  Father  Lasse  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

"He  has  gone  out  with  the  hand-cart  for  tiie  second-hand 
dealer,"  said  Marie;  "he  had  to  fetch  a  sofa."  She  had  taken 
Young  Lasse  on  her  lap  and  was  almost  eating  him. 

E^arl  put  on  his  fine  new  clothes,  his  fresh  face  beaming  with 
delight  The  trousers  were  fully  long  enough,  but  it  was  quite 
fashionable  to  go  about  with  tumed-up  trousers.  That  was 
easily  got  over. 

"Now  you  look  like  a  real  grocer  I"  said  Pelle,  laughing. 

E^arl  ran  out  into  the  gangway  and  came  back  immediately 
with  his  head  wetted  and  his  hair  parted  down  the  middle. 
"Aoh,  you  fool,  why  dont  you  leave  well  alone!"  cried  Marie, 
ru£9ing  his  head.  A  fight  ensued.  Peter  sat  in  a  comer,  self- 
absorbed,  staring  gloomily  out  of  the  window. 

"Now,  Peter,  hold  your  head  up  1"  cried  PeUe,  clapping  him 
on  th6  shoulder.  "When  weVe  got  the  great  Federation  to- 
geflier  and  things  are  working  properly.  111  manage  something 
for  you  too.    Perhaps  you  can  act  as  messenger  for  us.'' 

Peter  did  not  reply,  but  turned  his  head  away. 

"He's  always  like  that — ^he's  so  grumpy  t  Do  at  least  be  a 
little  polite,  Peter  t"  said  Marie  irritably.  The  boy  took  his  cap 
and  went  out. 

"Now  he's  going  out  by  the  North  Bridge,  to  his  sweetheart 
• — and  we  shan't  see  anything  of  him  for  the  next  few  days," 


21$  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOR 

said  Marie^  looking  after  him.  '^She^s  a  factory  girl — she's  had 
a  child  by  one  man — ^he  deserted  her/'  said  Marie. 

^^e  has  a  sweetheart  already  V*  said  Pelle. 

^^Whsit  of  that?  He's  seventeen.  But  there's  nothing  in 
her." 

^She  has  red  hair!  And  she  drags  one  leg  behind  her  as 
though  she  wanted  to  take  the  pavement  with  her/'  said  EarL 
^She  might  well  be  his  mother." 

^?  don't  think  you  ought  to  tease  him,"  said  Pelle  seriously. 

*^e  don't/'  said  Marie.  ^'But  he  won't  have  it  when  we 
try  to  be  nice  to  him.  And  he  can't  bear  to  see  us  contented. 
Lasse  says  it  is  as  though  he  were  bewitched." 

*T  have  a  situation  for  you  too,  Marie/'  said  Pelle.  "With 
Ellen's  old  employers  in  Holberg  Street — ^youll  be  well  treated 
there.   But  you  must  be  ready  by  October." 

^That  will  be  fine !  Then  Karl  and  I  can  go  into  situations 
on  the  same  day  I"  She  clapped  her  hands,  '^ut  Peter !"  she 
cried  suddenly.  **Who  will  look  after  him  ?  No,  I  can't  do  it, 
Pefle!" 

'^e  must  see  if  we  can't  find  nice  lodgings  for  him.  You 
must  take  the  situation — ^you  can't  go  on  living  here." 

From  the  end  of  the  long  gangway  came  a  curious  noise, 
which  sounded  like  a  mixture  of  singing  and  crying.  Young 
Lasse  got  down  onto  his  feet  near  the  open  door,  and  said,  "Sh ! 
Singing!  Sh!" 

'HTesI  That's  the  pasteboard-worker  and  her  great  Jut- 
lander,"  said  Marie,  they've  got  a  funeral  to-day*  The  poor 
little  worm  has  ceased  to  suffer,  thank  God !" 

'^s  that  any  one  new?"  said  Pelle. 

^0,  they  are  people  who  moved  here  in  the  spring.  He 
hasn't  been  living  here,  but  every  Saturday  he  used  to  come 
here  and  take  her  wages.  HTou  are  crazy  to  give  him  your 
wages  when  he  doesn't  even  live  with  you!"  we  told  her.  ^e 
ought  to  get  a  thrashing  instead  of  money!'  ^ut  he's  the 
child's  father !'  she  said,  and  she  went  on  giving  him  her  money. 
And  on  Sunday,  when  he  had  drunk  it,  he  regretted  it,  and 
then  he  used  to  come  and  beat  her,  because  she  needn't  have 
given  it  to  him.  She  was  an  awful  fool,  for  she  could  just  have 
been  out  when  he  came.    But  she  was  fond  of  him  and  thought 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  219 

nothing  of  a  few  blows— only  it  didnt  do  for  the  child.  She 
never  had  food  for  it,  and  now  ifs  dead.** 

The  door  at  the  end  of  the  gangway  opened,  and  the  big 
Jutlander  came  out  with  a  tiny  coffin  nnder  his  arm.  He  was 
singing  a  hymn  in  an  indistinct  voice,  as  he  stood  there  wait- 
ing. In  the  side  passage,  behind  the  partition-wall,  a  boy's 
voice  was  mocking  him.  The  Jutlander's  face  was  red  and 
swollen  with  crying,  and  the  debauch  of  the  night  before  was 
still  heavy  in  his  1^.  Behind  him  came  the  mother,  and  now 
they  went  down  the  gangway  with  funeral  steps;  the  woman's 
thin  black  shawl  hung  mournfully  about  her,  and  she  held  her 
handkerchief  to  her  mouth;  she  was  crying  still.  Her  livid  face 
had  a  mildewed  appearance. 

Pelle  and  Toung  Lasse  had  to  be  ofiF.  ^ou  are  always  in 
such  a  hurry!''  said  Marie  dolefully.  ^  wanted  to  make 
coflfee." 

'HTes,  I've  got  a  lot  to  do  to-day  stilL  Otherwise  I'd  gladly 
stay  with  you  a  bit." 

Tk)  you  know  you  are  gradually  getting  quite  famous  ?"  said 
Marie,  looking  at  him  in  admiration.  ^'The  people  talk  almost 
as  much  about  you  as  they  do  about  the  big  tinplate  manu- 
facturer. They  say  you  ruined  the  biggest  employer  in  the 
city." 

^^es.  I  ruined  his  business,"  said  Pelle,  laughing,  '^ut 
where  has  the  shopwalker  got  to?" 

^e's  gone  down  into  the  streets  to  show  himself !" 

Karl,  sure  enough,  was  strolling  about  below  and  allowing 
the  boys  and  girls  to  admire  him.  ^Hjook,  when  we  come  into 
the  shop  and  the  grocer  isn't  there  youll  stand  us  treat !"  Pelle 
heard  one  of  them  say. 

^ou  dont  catch  me  t  And  if  you  dare  youll  get  one  in  the 
jawt"  replied  Earl.  ''Think  I'm  going  to  have  you  loafing 
about?" 

At  the  end  of  the  street  the  great  Jutlander  was  rolling 
along,  the  coffin  under  his  arm ;  the  girl  followed  at  a  distance, 
and  tiiey  kept  to  the  middle  of  the  road  as  though  they  formed 
part  of  a  funeral  procession.  It  was  a  dismal  sight.  The  gray, 
dismal  street  was  like  a  dungeon. 

The  shutters  were  up  in  all  the  basement  windows,  except- 


220  PELLE  THE   CONQUEEOE 

ing  that  of  the  bread-woman.  Before  the  door  of  her  shop 
stood  a  crowd  of  grimy  little  children^  smearing  themselves  willi 
dainties;  every  moment  one  of  them  slipped  down  into  the 
cellar  to  spend  an  ore.  *  One  little  girl,  dressed  in  her  Sunday 
best,  with  a  tightly  braided  head,  was  balancing  herself  on  the 
edge  of  the  curbstone  with  a  big  jug  of  cream  in  her  hand;  and 
in  a  doorway  opposite  stood  a  few  young  fellows  meditating 
some  mischief  or  other. 

"Shall  we  go  anywhere  to-day?**  asked  Ellen,  when  Pelle 
and  young  Lasse  got  home.    ''The  fine  season  is  soon  over.** 

^  must  go  to  the  committee-meeting,**  Pelle  replied  hesitat- 
ingly. He  was  sorry  for  her;  she  was  going  to  have  another 
child,  and  she  looked  so  forsaken  as  she  moved  about  the  home. 
But  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  stay  at  home. 

'TVhen  do  you  think  you*ll  be  back  ?** 

"That  I  don*t  know,  Ellen.  It  is  very  possible  it  will  take 
the  whole  day.** 

Then  she  was  silent  and  set  out  his  food. 


xxin 

That  year  was,  if  possible,  worse  than  the  preceding.  As 
early  as  September  the  unemployed  stood  in  long  ranks  beside 
the  canals  or  in  the  market-place,  their  feet  in  the  wet.  The 
bones  of  their  wrists  were  blue  and  prominent  and  foretold  a 
hard  winter,  of  which  the  corns  of  the  old  people  had  long  ago 
|[iven  warning;  and  sparks  of  fire  were  flying  up  from  under 
poor  folks'  ketties.  '^ow  the  hard  winter  is  coming  and  bring- 
'ing  poveriy  with  it,"  said  the  people.  ^And  then  we  shall  have 
a  pretty  timeP 

In  October  the  frost  appeared  and  began  to  put  an  end  to 
aU  work  that  had  not  already  been  stopped  by  tiie  hard  times. 

In  the  city  the  poor  were  living  from  hand  to  mouth;  if  a 
man  had  a  bad  day  it  was  visible  on  his  plate  the  next  morning. 
Famine  lay  curled  up  beneath  the  table  in  ten  thousand  house- 
holds ;  like  a  bear  in  its  winter  sleep  it  had  lain  there  all  sum- 
mer, shockingly  wasted  and  groaning  in  its  evil  dreams;  but 
they  were  used  to  its  society  and  took  no  notice  of  it  so  long 
as  it  did  not  lay  its  heavy  paw  upon  the  table.  One  day's  sick- 
ness, one  day's  loss  of  work — and  there  it  was ! 

'*Ach,  how  good  it  would  be  if  we  only  had  a  brine-tub  that 
we  oould  go  to !"  said  those  who  could  still  remember  their  life 
in  the  country,  ^ut  the  good  Ood  has  taken  the  brine-tub  and 
given  us  the  pawnbroker  instead!"  and  then  they  began  to 
pledge  their  possessions. 

It  was  sad  to  see  how  the  people  kept  together;  the  city  was 
scattered  to  the  winds  in  summer,  but  now  it  grew  compacter; 
the  homeless  came  in  from  the  Common,  and  the  great  land- 
owners returned  to  inhabit  their  winter  palaces.  Madam  Bas- 
mussen,  in  her  attic,  suddenly  appeared  with  a  husband; 
drunken  Yalde  had  returned — ^the  cold,  so  to  speak,  had  driven 
him  into  her  arms!  At  the  first  signs  of  spring  he  would  be 
off  again,  into  the  arms  of  his  summer  mistress,  Madam  Orass- 
mower.    But  as  long  as  he  was  here,  here  he  was!    He  stood 

821 


282  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

lounging  in  the  doorway  downstairs^  with  feathers  sticking  in 
the  shaggy  hair  of  his  neck  and  bits  of  bed-straw  adhering  to 
his  flat  back.  His  big  boots  were  always  beautifully  polished; 
Madam  Basmussen  did  that  for  him  before  she  went  to  work  in 
the  morning;  after  which  she  made  two  of  herself^  so  that  her 
big  strong  handsome  protector  should  have  plenty  of  time  to 
stand  and  scratch  himself. 

Week  by  week  the  cold  locked  up  all  things  more  closely;  it 
locked  up  the  earthy  so  that  the  husbandmen  could  not  get  at  it; 
and  it  closed  the  modest  credit  account  of  the  poor.  Already 
it  had  closed  all  the  harbors  round  about.  Foreign  trade  shrunk 
away  to  nothing;  the  stevedores  and  waterside  workers  might 
as  well  stop  at  home.  It  tightened  the  heart-strings — ^and  the 
strings  of  the  big  purse  that  kept  everything  going.  The  es- 
tablished trades  began  to  work  shorter  hours,  and  the  less  stable 
trades  entirely  ceased.  Initiative  drew  in  its  horns;  people  be- 
gan nothing  new,  and  did  no  work  for  the  warehouses ;  fear  had 
entered  into  them.  All  who  had  put  out  their  feelers  drew  them 
back;  they  were  frostbitten,  so  to  speak.  The  earth  had  with- 
drawn its  sap  into  itself  and  had  laid  a  crust  of  ice  over  all; 
humanity  did  the  same.  The  poor  withdrew  their  scanty  blood 
into  their  hearts,  in  order  to  preserve  the  germ  of  life.  Their 
limbs  were  cold  and  bloodless,  their  skin  gray.  They  withdrew 
into  themselves,  and  into  the  darkest  comers,  packed  closely  to- 
gether. They  spent  nothing.  And  many  of  those  who  had 
enough  grudged  themselves  even  food;  the  cold  ate  their  needs 
away,  and  set  anxiety  in  their  place.  Consumption  was  at  a 
standstill. 

One  could  not  go  by  the  thermometer,  for  according  to  that 
the  frost  had  been  much  harder  earlier  in  the  year.  ^^WhsA,  is 
it  no  worse  !'^  said  the  people,  taken  aback.  But  they  felt  just  as 
cold  and  wretched  as  ever.  What  did  the  thermometer  know 
of  a  hard  winter?  Winter  is  the  companion  of  hard  times,  and 
takes  the  same  way  whether  it  freezes  or  thaws — and  on  this 
occasion  it  froze  t 

In  the  poor  quarters  of  the  city  tiie  streets  were  as  though 
depopulated.  A  fall  of  snow  would  entice  the  dwellers  therein 
out  of  their  hiding-places;  it  made  the  air  milder,  and  made 
it  possible,  too,  to  earn  a  few  kroner  for  sweeping  away  the 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  223 

snow.  Then  fhey  disappeared  again^  falling  into  a  kind  of 
ntimb  trance  and  supporting  their  life  on  incredibly  little — on 
nothing  at  all.  Only  in  the  mornings  were  the  streets  peopled — 
when  the  men  went  out  to  seek  work.  But  everywhere  where 
there  was  work  for  one  man  hundreds  applied  and  begged  for 
ii  The  dawn  saw  the  defeated  ones  slinking  home ;  they  slept 
the  time  away^  or  sat  all  day  with  their  elbows  on  the  table, 
never  tittering  a  word.  The  cold,  that  locked  up  all  else,  had 
an  opposite  effect  upon  the  heart;  there  was  much  compassion 
abroad.  Many  whose  wits  had  been  benumbed  by  the  cold,  so 
that  they  did  not  attempt  to  carry  on  their  avocations,  had 
suffered  no  damage  at  heart,  but  expended  their  means  in  benefi- 
cence. Kindly  people  called  the  poor  together,  and  took  plains 
to  find  them  out,  for  they  were  not  easy  to  find. 

But  the  Almighty  has  created  beings  that  live  upon  the  earth 
and  creatures  that  live  under  the  earth;  creatures  of  the  air  and 
creatures  of  the  water;  even  in  the  fire  live  creatures  that  in- 
crease and  multiply.  And  the  cold,  too,  saw  the  growth  of  a 
whole  swarm  of  creatures  that  live  not  by  labor,  but  on  it,  as 
parasites.  The  good  times  are  their  bad  times;  then  they  grow 
thin,  and  there  are  not  many  of  them  about.  But  as  soon  as 
cold  and  destitution  appear  they  come  forth  in  their  swarms ;  it 
is  they  who  arouse  beneficence — ^and  get  the  best  part  of  what 
is  going.  They  scent  the  coming  of  a  bad  year  and  inundate  the 
rich  quarters  of  the  city.  'TIow  many  poor  people  come  to  the 
door  this  year  1'*  people  say,  as  they  open  their  purses.  'Tliese 
are  hard  times  for  the  poor  I** 

In  the  autumn  Pelle  had  removed ;  he  was  now  dwelling  in  a 
little  two-roomed  apartment  on  the  Kapelvej.  He  had  many 
points  of  contact  with  this  part  of  the  city  now;  besides,  he 
wanted  Ellen  to  be  near  her  parents  when  she  should  be  brought 
to  bed.  Lasse  would  not  accompany  him;  he  preferred  to  be 
faithful  to  the  ^^Ark";  he  had  got  to  know  the  inmates  now, 
and  he  could  keep  himself  quite  decently  by  occasional  work  in 
the  neighboring  parts  of  the  city. 

Pelle  fought  valiantly  to  keep  the  winter  at  bay.  There  was 
nothing  to  do  at  the  workshop ;  and  he  had  to  be  on  the  go  from 
morning  to  night.  Wherever  work  was  to  be  had,  there  he 
applied,  squeezing  his  way  through  hundreds  of  others. 


224  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

customers  needed  f  oootwear  now  more  than  ever ;  but  they  badf 
no  money  to  pay  for  it. 

Ellen  and  he  drew  nearer  at  this  season  and  learned  to 
know  one  another  on  a  new  side.  The  hard  times  drew  them 
together;  and  he  had  cause  to  marvel  at  the  stoutness  of  her 
heart.  She  accepted  conditions  as  they  were  with  extraordinary 
willingness^  and  made  a  little  go  a  very  long  way.  Only  with 
the  stove  she  could  do  nothing,  ^^t  eats  up  everything  we 
scrape  together/'  she  said  dejectedly;  "it  sends  everjrthing  up 
the  chimney  and  doesn't  give  out  any  warmth.  IVe  put  a  bushd 
of  coal  on  it  to-day^  and  ifs  as  cold  as  ever  I  Where  I  was  in 
service  we  were  able  to  warm  two  big  rooms  with  one  scuttle  I  I 
must  be  a  fool^  but  wont  you  look  into  itP  She  was  almost 
crying. 

^rfou  mustn't  take  that  to  heart  soP  said  Pelle  gloomily. 
'Thaf  s  the  way  with  poor  folks'  stoves.  They  are  old  articles 
that  are  past  use^  and  the  landlords  buy  them  up  as  old  iron  and 
then  fit  them  in  their  workmen's  dwellings !  And  if  s  like  that 
with  everything!  We  poor  people  get  the  worst  and  pay  the 
dearest — although  we  make  the  things !    Poverty  is  a  sieve." 

^es^  if s  dreadful/'  said  Ellen^  looking  at  him  with  mourn- 
ful eyes.    "And  I  can  understand  you  so  well  now !" 

Threatening  Need  had  spread  its  pinions  above  them.  They 
hardly  dared  to  think  now;  they  accepted  all  things  at  its  hands. 

One  day,  soon  after  Ellen  had  been  brought  to  bed,  she 
asked  Pelle  to  go  at  once  to  see  Father  Lasse.  "And  mind  you 
bring  him  with  you!"  she  said.  ^'We  can  very  well  have  him 
here,  if  we  squeeze  together  a  little.  I'm  afraid  he  may  be  in 
want" 

Pelle  was  pleased  by  the  ofFer,  and  immediately  set  out  It 
was  good  of  Ellen  to  open  her  heart  to  the  old  man  when  they 
were  by  no  means  certain  of  being  able  to  feed  themselves. 

The  "Ark"  had  a  devastated  appearance.  All  the  curtains 
had  disappeared— except  at  Olson's;  with  the  gilt  mouldings 
they  always  fetched  fifty  ore.  The  fiowers  in  tiie  windows  were 
frostbitten.  One  could  see  right  into  the  rooms,  and  inside 
also  all  was  empty.  There  was  something  shameless  about  the 
winter  here;  instead  of  clothing  the  "ijrk"  more  warmly  it 
stripped  it  bare — and  first  of  all  of  its  protecting  veils.    The 


THE   GREAT   STEUGGLE  226 

privies  in  the  court  had  lost  iheir  doors  and  covers^  and  it  was 
all  Pelle  could  do  to  dimb  up  to  the  attics  I  Most  of  the  balus- 
trades had  vanished,  and  every  second  step  was  lacking;  the 
^Ark''  was  helping  itself  as  well  as  it  could  I  Over  at  Madam 
Johnsen's  the  bucket  of  oak  was  gone  that  had  always  stood  in 
the  comer  of  the  gallery  when  it  was  not  lent  to  some  one — ^ihe 
^Ark"  possessed  only  the  one.  And  now  it  was  burned  or  sold. 
Pelle  looked  across,  but  had  not  the  courage  to  calL  Hanne,  he 
knew,  was  out  of  work. 

A  woman  came  slinking  out  of  the  third  story,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  break  away  a  fragment  of  woodwork;  she  nodded  to 
Pelle.  **For  a  drop  of  coflfee !"  she  said,  *'and  God  bless  cofFee  I 
You  can  make  it  as  weak  as  you  like  as  long  as  it's  still  nice  and 
hot*' 

The  room  was  empty;  Lasse  was  not  there.  Pelle  asked 
news  of  him  along  the  gangway.  He  learned  that  he  was  living 
in  the  cellar  with  the  old  clothes  woman.  Thin  gray  faces  ap- 
peared for  a  moment  in  the  doorways,  gazed  at  him,  and  silentiy 
disappeared. 

The  cellar  of  the  old  clothes  woman  was  overcrowded  with 
all  sorts  of  objects;  hither,  that  winter,  the  possessions  of  the 
poor  had  drifted.  Lasse  was  sitting  in  a  comer,  patching  a 
mattress;  he  was  alone  down  there.  '^She  has  gone  out  to  see 
about  something,''  he  said;  ''in  these  times  her  money  finds 
plenty  of  use!  No,  Pm  not  going  to  come  with  you  and  eat 
your  bread.  I  get  food  and  drink  here — ^I  earn  it  by  helping 
her — ^and  how  many  others  can  say  this  winter  that  they've 
their  living  assured?  And  I've  got  a  comer  where  I  can  lie. 
But  cant  you  tell  me  whaf  s  become  of  Peter  ?  He  left  the  room 
before  me  one  day,  and  since  then  I've  never  seen  him  again." 

Terhaps  he's  living  with  his  sweetheart,"  said  Pelle.  "Ill 
see  if  I  can't  find  out." 

'TTes,  if  you  wilL  They  were  good  children,  those  three,  it 
would  be  a  pity  if  one  of  them  were  to  come  to  any  harm." 

Pelle  would  not  take  his  father  away  from  a  regular  situation 
where  he  was  eaming  a  steady  living.  ''We  don't  very  well  see 
what  we  could  offer  you  in  its  place.  But  don't  forget  that  you 
will  always  be  welcome — Ellen  herself  sent  me  here.** 

^TTes,  yes !    Give  her  many  thanks  for  that !    And  now  you 


226  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

be  off^  before  the  old  woman  comes  back/'  said  Lasse  anzioiiBly. 
^'She  doesnH  like  any  one  to  be  here — she's  afraid  for  her 
money.*' 

The  first  thing  that  had  to  go  was  Pelle's  winter  overcoat 
He  pawned  it  one  day,  without  letting  Ellen  know,  and  on  com- 
ing home  surprised  her  with  the  money,  which  he  delightedly 
threw  on  the  table,  krone  by  krone.  **How  it  rings  P'  he  said 
to  Young  Lasse.  The  child  gave  a  jump,  and  wanted  the 
money  to  play  with. 

'^What  do  I  want  with  a  winter  coat  ?"  he  retorted,  to  Ellen's 
kindly  reproaches,  '^'m  not  cold,  and  it  only  hangs  up  indoors 
here.  I've  borne  with  it  all  the  summer.  Ah,  thafs  warm!" 
he  cried,  to  the  child,  when  Ellen  had  brought  some  fuel. 
'TTiat  was  really  a  good  winter  coat,  that  of  father's !  Mother 
and  sister  and  Young  Lasse  can  all  warm  themselves 
at  it  I" 

The  child  put  his  hands  on  his  knees  and  peeped  into  the 
fire  after  his  father's  winter  coat.  The  fire  kindled  flames  in 
his  big  child's  eyes,  and  played  on  his  red  cheeks.  'Tretty 
overcoat  I"  he  said,  laughing  all  over  his  face. 

They  did  not  see  much  of  the  tenants  of  the  house;  nor  of 
the  family.  People  were  living  quietly,  each  one  fighting  his 
own  privations  within  his  four  walls.  On  Simdays  they  gave 
the  children  to  one  of  the  neighbors,  went  into  the  city,  and 
stood  for  an  hour  outside  some  concert-hall,  freezing  and  listen- 
ing to  the  music.  Then  they  went  home  again  and  sat  vegetate 
ing  in  the  firelight,  without  lighting  the  lamp. 

One  Simday  things  looked  bad.  **The  coals  will  hold  out 
only  till  midday,"  said  Ellen;  'Ve  shall  have  to  go  out.  And 
there's  no  more  food  either.  But  perhaps  we  can  go  to  the  old 
folks ;  theyll  put  up  with  us  till  evening." 

As  they  were  about  to  start,  Ellen's  brother  Otto  arrived,  with 
his  wife  and  two  children,  to  call  on  them.  Ellen  exchanged  a 
despairing  glance  with  Pelle.  Winter  had  left  its  stamp  on 
them  too;  their  faces  were  thin  and  serious.  But  they  still  had 
warm  clothes.  'HTou  must  keep  your  cloaks  on,"  said  Ellen, 
'^or  I  have  no  more  coaL  I  forgot  it  yesterday,  I  had  so  much 
to  do ;  I  had  to  put  off  ordering  it  until  to-day,  and  to-day,  un- 
fortunately, the  coal  dealer  isn't  at  home." 


THE   GBEAT   STBUGGLE  227 

**If  only  the  children  aren't  cold/'  said  Pelle,  **we  grown-ups 
can  easily  keep  ourselves  warm/* 

'^elly  as  long  as  they  haven't  icicles  hanging  from  their 
noses  they  won't  come  to  any  harm !"  said  Otto  with  a  return 
of  his  old  humor. 

They  moved  restlessly  about  the  room  and  spoke  of  the  bad 
times  and  the  increasing  need.  *^eB,  if  s  terrible  that  there 
isnt  enough  for  everybody,"  said  Otto's  wife. 

'^ut  the  hard  winter  and  the  misery  will  come  to  an  end 
and  then  things  will  be  better  again." 

^on  mean  we  shall  come  to  an  end  first?"  said  Otto,  laugh- 
ing despairingly. 

'*No,  not  we — ^this  poverty,  of  course.  Ach,  you  know  well 
enough  what  I  mean.  But  he's  always  like  that,"  she  said, 
turning  to  Pelle. 

'^Curious,  how  you  women  still  go  about  in  the  pious  belief 
that  there's  not  enough  for  all  I"  said  Pelle.  'TTet  the  harbor 
is  full  of  stacks  of  coal,  and  there's  no  lack  of  eatables  in  the 
shops.  On  the  contrary — ^there  is  more  than  usual,  because  so 
many  are  having  to  do  without — and  you  can  see,  too,  that 
everything  in  the  city  is  cheaper.  But  what  good  is  that  when 
tiiere's  no  money?    It's  the  distribution  that's  all  wrong." 

•TTes,  you  are  quite  right!"  said  Otto  Stolpe.  'Ws  really 
damnable  that  no  one  has  the  courage  to  help  himself !" 

Pelle  heard  Ellen  go  out  through  the  kitchen  door,  and  pres- 
ently she  came  back  with  firing  in  her  apron.  She  had  bor- 
rowed it.  *Tve  scraped  together  just  a  last  little  bit  of  coal," 
she  said,  going  down  on  her  knees  before  the  stove,  ^n  any 
case  if 8  enough  to  heat  the  water  for  a  cup  of  cofFee." 

Otto  and  his  wife  begged  her  urgently  not  to  give  herself  any 
trouble;  they  had  had  some  coffee  before  they  left  home — after 
a  good  solid  breakfast.  ^On  Sundays  we  always  have  a  solid 
breakfast,"  said  young  Madam  Stolpe;  ''it  does  one  such  a  lot 
of  good  I"  While  she  was  speaking  her  eyes  involuntarily  fol- 
lowed Ellen's  every  moment,  as  though  she  could  tell  thereby 
how  soon  the  coffee  would  be  ready. 

Ellen  chatted  as  she  lit  the  fire.  But  of  course  they  must 
have  a  cup  of  coffee ;  they  weren't  to  go  away  with  dry  throats  I 

Pelle  sat  by  listening  in  melancholy  surprise;  her  innocent 


228  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOB 

boasting  only  made  their  poveriy  more  glaring.  He  could  see 
that  Ellen  was  desperately  perplexed^  and  he  followed  her  into 
the  kitchen. 

Telle,  ?elle!*'  she  said,  in  desperation.  '^They've  counted 
on  stopping  here  and  eating  nntil  the  evening.  And  I  haTsn% 
a  scrap  in  the  house.    What's  to  be  done?^ 

*Tell  them  how  it  is,  of  course  I" 

*?  can't!  And  theyVe  had  nothing  to  eat  to-day— oaaH 
you  see  by  looking  at  them?''    She  burst  into  tears. 

^ow,  now,  let  me  see  to  the  whole  thing!"  he  said  consol- 
ingly.   "But  what  are  you  going  to  give  us  with  our  coffee  ?" 

'^  don't  know !  I  have  nothing  but  black  bread  and  a  litUe 
butter." 

^^rd,  what  a  little  donkey !"  he  said,  smiling,  and  he  took 
her  face  between  his  hands.  "And  you  stand  there  lamenting ! 
Just  you  be  cutting  the  bread-and-butter !" 

Ellen  set  to  work  hesitatingly.  But  before  she  appeared  witii 
the  refreshments  they  heard  her  bang  the  front  door  and  go 
running  down  the  steps.  After  a  time  she  returned.  "Oh, 
Lord!  Now  the  baker  has  sold  out  of  white  bread,"  she  said, 
"so  you  must  just  have  black  bread-and-butter  wifli  your 
coffee." 

Tut  thaf  s  capital,"  they  cried.  Tlack  bread  always  goes 
best  with  coffee.  Only  if  s  a  shame  we  are  giving  you  so  much 
trouble !" 

'TLiook  here,"  said  Pelle,  at  last.  "It  may  please  you  to  play 
hide-and-seek  with  one  another,  but  it  doesn't  me — ^I  am  going 
to  speak  my  mind.  With  us  things  are  bad,  and  it  can't  be  any 
better  with  you.    Now  how  is  it,  really,  with  the  old  folks?" 

"They  are  struggling  along,"  said  Otto.  "They  always  have 
credit,  and  I  think  they  have  a  little  put  by  as  well." 

"Then  shan't  we  go  there  to-night  and  have  supper?  Other* 
wise  I'm  afraid  we  shan't  get  anything." 

"Yes,  we  will !  If  s  true  we  were  there  the  day  before  yes- 
terday— ^but  what  does  that  matter?  We  must  go  somewlmre^ 
and  at  least  it's  sticking  to  the  family  I" 

«  «  «  *  « 

The  cold  had  no  effect  on  Pelle;  the  blood  ran  swiftly 
through  his  veins.     He  was  always  warm.     Privation  he  ac^ 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  929 

cepted  as  an  admonition^  and  merely  felt  the  stronger  for  it ;  and 
he  made  nse  of  his  involnntary  holiday  to  work  for  the  Ganse. 

It  was  no  time  for  public  meetings  and  sounding  words — 
many  had  not  even  clothes  with  which  to  go  to  meetings.  The 
movement  had  lost  its  impetus  through  the  cold;  people  had 
their  work  cut  out  to  keep  the  little  they  already  had.  Pelle 
made  it  his  business  to  encourage  the  hopes  of  the  rejected,  and 
was  always  on  the  run ;  he  came  into  contact  with  many  people. 
Misery  stripped  them  bare  and  developed  his  knowledge  of 
humanity. 

Wherever  a  trade  was  at  a  standstill,  and  want  had  made  its 
appearance,  he  .and  others  were  at  hand  to  prevent  demoraliza- 
tion and  to  make  the  prevailing  conditions  the  subject  of  agita- 
tion. He  saw  how  want  propagates  itself  like  the  plague,  and 
gradually  conquers  all — ^a  caUous  accomplice  in  the  fate  of  the 
poor  man.  In  a  week  to  a  fortnight  unemployment  would  take 
all  comfort  from  a  home  that  represented  the  scraping  and 
saving  of  many  years — so  crying  was  the  disproportion.  Here 
was  enough  to  stamp' a  lasting  comprehension  upon  the  minds 
of  all,  and  enough  to  challenge  agitation.  All  but  persons  of 
feeble  mind  could  see  now  what  they  were  aiming  at. 

And  there  were  people  here  like  those  at  home.  Want  made 
them  even  more  submissive.  They  could  hardly  believe  that 
they  were  so  favored  as  to  be  permitted  to  walk  the  earth  and 
go  hungry.  With  them  there  was  nothing  to  be  done.  They 
were  bom  slaves,  bom  with  slavery  deep  in  their  hearts,  pitiful 
and  cur-like. 

They  were  people  of  a  certain  age — of  an  older  generation 
than  his.  The  younger  folk  were  of  another  and  a  harder  stuff; 
and  he  often  was  amazed  to  find  how  vigorously  their  minds 
echoed  his  ideas.  They  were  ready  to  dare,  ready  to  meet  force 
with  force.  These  must  be  held  back  lest  they  should  prejudice 
the  movement — ^for  them  its  progress  was  never  suflSciently 

rapid. 

His  mind  was  yoimg  and  intact  and  worked  well  in  the  cold 
weather;  he  restlessly  drew  comparisons  and  formed  conclu- 
sions in  respect  of  everything  he  came  into  contact  with.  The 
individual- did  not  seem  to  change.  The  agitation  was  espe- 
cially directed  to  awakening  what  was  actually  existent.    For  the 


230  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROB 

rest;  they  must  live  fheir  day  and  be  replaced  by  a  yotinger 
generation  in  whom  danands  for  compensation  came  more 
readily  to  the  tongue.  So  far  as  he  could  survey  the  evolution 
of  the  movement,  it  did  not  proceed  through  the  generations,  but 
in  some  amazing  fashion  grew  out  of  the  empty  space  between 
them.  So  youth,  even  at  the  beginning,  was  further  ahead  than 
age  had  been  where  it  left  off. 

The  movements  of  the  mind  had  an  obscure  and  mystical 
effect  upon  him,  as  had  the  movement  of  his  blood  in  child- 
hood ;  sometimes  he  felt  a  mysterious  shudder  run  through  him, 
and  he  began  to  imderstand  what  Morten  had  meant  when  he 
said  that  humanity  was  sacred.  It  was  terrible  that  human 
beings  should  suffer  such  need,  and  Pelle's  resentment  grew 
deeper. 

Through  his  contact  with  so  many  individuals  he  learned 
that  Morten  was  not  so  exceptional;  the  minds  of  many  be- 
trayed the  same  impatience,  and  could  not  understand  that  a 
man  who  is  hungry  should  control  himself  and  be  content  with 
the  fact  of  organization.  There  was  a  revolutionary  feeling 
abroad;  a  sterner  note  was  audible,  and  respectable  people  gave 
the  unemployed  a  wide  berth,  while  old  people  prophesied  the 
end  of  the  world.  The  poor  had  acquired  a  manner  of  think- 
ing such  as  had  never  been  known. 

One  day  Pelle  stood  in  a  doorway  with  some  other  young 
people,  discussing  the  aspect  of  affairs;  it  was  a  cold  meeting- 
place,  but  they  had  not  sufficient  means  to  call  a  meeting  in  the 
usual  public  room.  The  discussion  was  conducted  in  a  very 
subdued  tune;  their  voices  were  bitter  and  sullen.  A  well- 
dressed  citizen  went  by.  'T!liere's  a  fine  overcoat,**  cried  one; 
'?  should  like  to  have  one  like  that !  Shall  we  fetch  him  into 
the  doorway  and  pull  his  coat  off?*'  He  spoke  loudly,  and  was 
about  to  run  out  into  the  street. 

'^0  stupidity!**  said  Pelle  sadly,  seizing  him  by  the  arm. 
'^e  should  only  do  ourselves  harm!  Bemember  the  authori- 
ties are  keeping  their  eyes  on  us  I** 

'*Well,  what*s  a  few  weeks  in  prison  ?**  the  man  replied.  *'At 
least  one  would  get  board  and  lodging  for  so  long.**  There  was 
a  look  that  threatened  mischief  in  his  usually  quiet  and  intelli- 
gent eyes. 


XXIV 

There  were  minors  that  the  city  authorities  intended  to 
intervene  in  order  to  remedy  the  condition  of  the  xmemployed, 
and  shortly  before  Christmas  large  numbers  of  navvies  werc^ 
given  employment.  Part  of  the  old  ramparts  was  cleared  away, 
and  the  space  converted  into  parks  and  boulevards.  Pelle  ap- 
plied among  a  thousand  others  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  be 
accq)ted.  The  contractor  gave  the  preference  to  youthful 
energy. 

Every  morning  the  workers  appeared  in  a  solid  phalanx;  tiie 
foreman  of  the  works  chose  those  he  had  need  of,  and  the  rest 
were  free  to  depart.  At  home  sat  their  wives  and  children, 
cheered  by  the  possibility  of  work;  the  men  felt  no  inclination 
to  go  home  with  bad  news,  so  they  loafed  about  in  the  vicinity. 

They  came  there  long  before  daybreak  in  order  to  be  the  first, 
although  there  was  not  much  hope.  There  was  at  least  an  ex- 
cuse to  leave  one's  bed;  idleness  was  burning  like  hell  fire  in 
their  loins.  When  the  foreman  came  they  thronged  silently 
about  him,  with  importunate  eyes.  One  woman  brought  her 
husband;  he  walked  modestly  behind  her,  kept  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  her,  and  did  precisely  as  she  did.  He  was  a  great  power- 
ful fellow,  but  he  did  nothing  of  his  own  accord— did  not  even 
blow  his  nose  unless  she  nudged  him.  ''Come  here,  Thorvald  !*' 
she  said,  cuffing  him  so  hard  as  to  hurt  him.  f'Keep  close 
behind  me  V^  She  spoke  in  a  harsh  voice,  into  the  empty  air,  as 
though  to  explain  her  behavior  to  the  others ;  but  no  one  looked 
at  her.  'Tie  can't  speak  for  himself  properly,  you  see,'*  she  re- 
marked at  random.  Her  peevish  voice  made  Pelle  start;  she 
was  from  Bomholm.  Ah,  those  smart  young  girls  at  home, 
they  were  a  man's  salvation!  ''And  the  children  have  got  to 
live  too  I**  she  continued.    "We  have  eight.    Yes,  eight" 

281 


232  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROB 

^Then  he's  some  use  for  something/'  said  a  workman  who 
looked  to  be  perishing  with  the  cold. 

The  woman  worked  her  way  through  them^  and  actually  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  her  man  accepted.  "And  now  you  do  what- 
ever they  tell  you,  nicely,  and  don't  let  them  tempt  you  to  play 
the  fool  in  any  way !"  she  said,  and  she  gave  him  a  cuff  which 
set  him  off  working  in  his  place.  She  raised  her  head  defiantly 
as  contemptuous  laughter  sounded  about  her. 

The  place  was  like  a  slave-market.  The  for^nan  went  to 
and  fro,  seeking  out  the  strongest,  eyeing  them  from  head  to 
foot  and  choosing  them  for  their  muscular  development  and 
breadth  of  back.  The  contractor  too  was  moving  about  and 
giving  orders.  '^One  of  them  rich  snobs!"  said  the  laborers, 
grumbling;  "all  the  laborers  in  town  have  to  march  out  here 
so  that  he  can  pick  himself  the  best.  And  he's  beaten  down  the 
day's  wages  to  fifty  ore.  He's  been  a  navvy  himself,  too;  but 
now  he's  a  man  who  enjoys  his  hundred  thousand  a  year.  A 
regular  bloodsucker,  he  is  I" 

The  crowd  continued  to  stand  there  and  to  loaf  about  all 
the  day,  in  the  hope  that  some  one  would  give  up,  or  fall  ill — 
or  go  crazy — so  that  some  one  could  take  his  place.  They  could 
not  tear  tiiemselves  away;  the  mere  fact  that  work  was  being 
done  chained  them  to  the  spot  They  looked  as  though  they 
might  storm  the  works  at  any  moment,  and  the  police  formed 
a  ring  about  the  place.  They  stood  pressing  forward,  absorbed 
by  their  desire  for  work,  with  a  sick  longing  in  their  faces. 
When  the  crowd  had  pressed  forward  too  far  it  hesitatingly 
allowed  itself  to  be  pushed  back  again.  Suddenly  there  was  a 
break  in  the  ranks ;  a  man  leaped  over  the  rail  and  seized  a  pick- 
axe. A  couple  of  policemen  wrested  the  tool  from  his  hand  and 
led  him  away. 

And  as  they  stood  there  a  feeling  of  defiance  rose  within 
them,  a  fierce  contempt  for  their  privations  and  the  whole 
shameless  situation.  It  expressed  itself  in  an  angry  half-sup- 
pressed growl.  They  followed  the  contractor  with  curious  eyes 
as  though  they  were  looking  for  something  in  him  but  could 
not  conceive  what  it  was. 

In  his  arrogance  at  receiving  such  an  excessive  offer  of 
labor,  he  decided  to  go  further,  and  to  lengthen  the  working 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  233 

day  by  an  hour.  The  workers  received  an  order  to  that  effect 
one  morning,  just  as  they  had  commenced  work.  But  at  the 
same  moment  the  four  hundred  men,  all  but  two,  threw  down 
their  implements  and  returned  to  their  comrades.  They  stood 
there  discussing  the  matter,  purple  with  rage.  So  now  their 
starving  condition  was  to  be  made  use  of,  in  order  to  enrich  the 
contractor  by  a  further  hundred  thousand !  ''We  must  go  to  the 
city  authorities,'*  they  cried.  'TTo,  to  the  newspaper  1'*  others 
replied.    The  paper  I    The  paper  is  better  P' 

'If  s  no  use  going  to  the  city  council — ^not  until  we  have 
elected  members  of  our  own  party  to  it,**  cried  Pelle.  "Re- 
member that  at  the  elections,  comrades  I  We  must  elect  men  of 
our  pariy  everywhere,  their  encroachments  will  never  be  stopped 
until  then.  And  now  we  must  stand  together  and  be  firm! 
If  it's  got  to  be,  better  starve  to  death  at  once  than  do  it 
slowly  1** 

They  did  not  reply,  but  pressed  closely  about  him,  heavily 
listening.  There  was  something  altogether  too  fierce  and  pro- 
found in  their  attention.  These  men  had  declared  a  strike  in 
midwinter,  as  their  only  remedy.  What  were  they  thinking  of 
doing  now?  Pelle  looked  about  him  and  was  daunted  by  tibeir 
diimb  rage.  This  threatening  silence  wouldn't  do ;  what  would 
it  lead  to  ?  It  seemed  as  though  something  overwhelming,  and 
uncontrollable,  would  spring  from  this  stony  taciturnity.  Pelle 
sprang  upon  a  heap  of  road-metaL 

"Comrades  I"  he  cried,  in  a  powerful  voice.  "This  is  merely 
a  change,  as  the  fox  said  when  they  flayed  his  skin  off.  They 
have  deprived  us  of  clothes  and  food  and  drink,  and  comfort  at 
home,  and  now  they  want  to  find  a  way  of  depriving  us  of  our 
skins  too !  The  question  to-day  is — ^forward  or  back  ?  Perhaps 
this  is  the  great  time  of  trial,  when  we  shall  enter  into  posses- 
sion of  all  we  have  desired !  Hold  together,  comrades !  Don't 
scatter  and  don't  give  way!  Things  are  difficult  enough  now, 
but  remember,  we  are  well  on  in  the  winter,  and  it  promises  to 
break  up  early.  The  night  is  always  darkest  before  daybreak  I 
And  shall  we  be  afraid  to  suffer  a  little — ^we,  who  have  suffered 
and  been  patient  for  hundreds  of  years  ?  Our  wives  are  sitting 
at  home  and  fretting — ^perhaps  they  will  be  angry  with  us.  We 
might  at  least  have  accepted  what  was  offered  us,  they  may  say. 


234  PELLB   THE   CONQTTEBOB 

Bui  we  canH  go  on  seeing  our  dear  ones  at  home  fading  away  in 
spite  of  our  utmost  exertions!  Hitherto  the  poor  man's  labor 
has  been  like  an  aimless  prayer  to  Heaven:  Deliver  us  from 
hunger  and  dirt^  from  misery^  poverty,  and  cold,  and  give  us 
bread,  and  again  bread !  Deliver  our  children  from  our  lot — 
lei  not  their  limbs  wither  and  their  minds  lapse  into  madness  I 
That  has  been  our  prayer,  but  there  is  only  one  prayer  that 
avails,  and  that  is,  to  defy  the  wicked!  We  are  the  chosen 
people,  and  for  that  reason  we  must  cry  a  halt!  We  will  no 
longer  do  as  we  have  done — ^for  our  wives'-  sakes,  and  our  chil- 
dren's, and  theirs  again!  Ay,  but  what  is  posterity  to  us? 
Of  course  it  is  something  to  us — ^precisely  to  us!  Were  your 
parents  as  you  are?  No,  they  were  ground  down  into  poverty 
and  the  dust,  they  crept  submissively  before  the  mighty.  Then 
whence  did  we  get  all  that  makes  us  so  strong  and  causes  us  to 
stand  together?  Time  has  stood  still,  comrades !  It  has  placed 
its  finger  on  our  breast  and  he  said,  'Thus  you  shall  do !'  Here 
where  we  stand,  the  old  time  ceases  and  Ihe  new  time  b^ns; 
and  that  is  why  we  have  thrown  down  our  tools,  with  want 
staring  us  in  Ihe  face — such  a  thing  as  has  never  been  seen 
before !  We  want  to  revolutionize  life — to  make  it  sweet  for  the 
poor  man !  And  for  all  time  1  You,  who  have  so  often  staked 
your  life  and  welfare  for  a  florin — ^you  now  hold  the  whole 
future  in  your  hands !  You  must  endure,  calmly  and  prudently ! 
And  you  will  never  be  forgotten,  so  long  as  there  are  workers 
on  the  earth  I  This  winter  will  be  the  last  through  which  we 
shall  have  to  endure — ^for  yonder  lies  the  land  toward  which  we 
have  been  wandering!  Comrades!  Through  us  the  day  shall 
come !" 

Pelle  himself  did  not  know  what  words  he  uttered.  He  felt 
only  that  something  was  speaking  through  him — something 
supremely  mighty,  that  never  lies.  There  was  a  radiant,  pro- 
phetic ring  in  his  voice,  which  carried  his  hearers  off  their  feet; 
and  his  eyes  were  blazing.  Before  their  eyes  a  figure  arose  from 
the  hopeless  winter,  towering  in  radiance,  a  figure  that  was  their 
own,  and  yet  that  of  a  young  god.  He  rose,  new-bom,  out  of 
misery  itself,  struck  aside  the  old  grievous  idea  of  fate,  and  in 
its  place  gave  them  a  new  faith — ^the  radiant  faith  in  their  own 
might  1    They  cried  up  to  him — ^first  single  voices,  then  alL    He 


THE    GREAT    STRUGGLE  235 

gathered  up  their  cries  into  a  mighty  cheer,  a  paean  in  honor  of 
the  n^  age ! 

Every  day  they  stationed  themselves  there,  not  to  work,  but 
to  stand  there  in  dumb  protest.  When  the  foreman  called  fo^ 
workers  they  stood  about  in  silent  groups,  threatening  as  a 
gloomy  rock.  Now  and  again  they  shouted  a  curse  at  those  who 
had  left  them  in  the  lurch.  The  city  did  nothing.  They  had 
held  out  a  helping  hand  to  the  needy,  and  the  latter  had  struck 
it  away — ^now  they  must  accept  the  consequences.  The  con- 
tractor had  received  permission  to  suspend  the  work  entirely, 
but  he  kept  it  going  with  a  few  dozen  strike-breakers,  in  order 
to  irritate  the  workers. 

All  over  the  great  terrace  a  silence  as  of  death  prevailed, 
except  in  that  comer  where  the  little  gang  was  at  work,  a 
policeman  beside  it,  as  though  the  men  had  been  convicts.  The 
wheelbarrows  lay  with  their  legs  in  the  air;  it  was  as  though 
the  pest  had  swept  over  the  works. 

The  strike-breakers  were  men  of  all  callings;  a  few  of  the 
unemployed  wrote  down  their  names  and  addresses,  in  order  to 
insert  them  in  The  Working  M(m.  One  of  Stolpe's  fellow- 
tmionists  was  among  them ;  he  was  a  capable  pater-f  amilias,  and 
had  taken  part  in  the  movement  from  its  earliest  days,  ^^t's  a 
pity  about  him,*'  said  Stolpe;  'Tie's  an  old  mate  of  mine,  and 
he's  always  been  a  good  comrade  till  now.  Now  they'll  give  it 
him  hard  in  the  paper — ^we  are  compelled  to.  It  does  the  trade 
no  good  when  one  of  its  representatives  goes  and  turns  traitor." 

Madame  Stolpe  was  unhappy.  'It's  such  a  nice  family," 
she  said;  'Ve  have  always  been  on  friendly  terms  with  them; 
and  I  know  they  were  hungry  a  long  time.  He  has  a  young 
wife,  father;  it's  not  easy  to  stand  out." 

'*It  hurts  me  myself,"  replied  Stolpe.  ''But  one  is  compelled 
to  do  it,  otherwise  one  would  be  guilty  of  partisanship.  And 
no  one  shall  come  to  me  and  say  that  I'm  a  respecter  of 
persons." 

"I  should  like  to  go  and  have  a  talk  with  them,''  said  Pelle. 
'Terhaps  they'd  give  it  up  then  " 

He  got  the  address  and  went  there  after  working  hours.  The 
home  had  been  stripped  bare.  There  were  four  little  children. 
The  atmosphere  was  oppressive.    The  man,  who  was  already  well 


236  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

on  in  years^  but  was  still  powerful^  sat  at  the  table  with  a  care- 
worn expression  eating  his  snpper,  while  the  children  «6tood 
ronnd  with  their  chins  on  the  edge  of  the  table,  attentively 
following  every  bite  he  took.  The  young  wife  was  going  to  and 
fro;  she  brought  him  his  simple  food  witii  a  peculiarly  loving 
gesture. 

Pelle  broached  the  question  at  issue.  It  was  not  pleasant 
to  attack  this  old  veteran.   But  it  must  be  done. 

^1.  know  that  well  enough/'  said  the  man,  nodding  to  him- 
self. 'TTou  neednH  begin  your  leciaore — I  myself  have  been  in 
the  movement  since  the  first  days,  and  until  now  I\e  kept  my 
oath.  But  now  it's  done  with,  for  me.  What  do  you  want  here, 
lad?  Have  you  a  wife  and  children  crying  for  bread?  Then 
think  of  your  own  1*' 

''We  don't  cry,  Hans,'*  said  the  woman  quietly. 

''No,  you  don't,  and  that  makes  it  even  worse  I  Can  I  sit 
here  and  look  on,  while  you  get  thinner  day  by  day,  and  perish 
with  the  cold  ?  To  hell  with  the  comrades  and  their  big  words 
— ^what  have  they  led  to?  Formerly  we  used  to  go  hungry  just 
for  a  little  while,  and  now  we  starve  outright — ^thafs  the  dif- 
ference !  Leave  me  alone,  I  tell  you !  Curse  it,  why  dont  they 
leave  me  in  peace  ?" 

He  took  a  mouthful  of  brandy  from  the  bottle.  His  wife 
pushed  a  glass  toward  him,  but  he  pushed  it  violently  away. 

"Youll  be  put  in  the  paper  to-morrow,"  said  Pelle,  hesitat- 
ing.   "I  only  wanted  to  tell  you  that" 

"Yes,  and  to  write  of  me  that  I'm  a  swine  and  a  bad  com- 
rade, and  perhaps  that  I  beat  my  wife  as  well.  You  know 
yourself  ifs  all  lies;  but  what  is  that  to  me?  Will  you  have  a 
drink?" 

No,  Pelle  wouldn't  take  anything.  'TSien  I  will  myself," 
said  the  man,  and  he  laughed  angrily.  "Now  you  can  certify 
that  I'm  a  hog — ^I  drink  out  of  the  bottle !  And  another  even- 
ing you  can  come  and  listen  at  the  keyhole — ^perhaps  then  youll 
hear  me  beating  my  wife !" 

The  woman  began  to  cry. 

"Oh,  damn  it  all,  they  might  leave  me  in  peace  I"  said  the 
man  defiantly. 

Pelle  had  to  go  with  nothing  effected. 


Thb  '^Ark'^  waa  now  freezing  in  fhe  north  wind;  all  outward 
signs  of  life  were  stripped  from  it.  The  sounds  that  in  summer 
bubbled  up  from  its  deep  well-like  shaft  were  silent  now;  the 
indistinguishable  dripping  of  a  hundred  waste-pipes,  that  turned 
the  court  into  a  little  well  with  green  slimy  walls,  was  silent 
too.  The  frost  had  fitted  them  all  with  stoppers;  and  where 
the  toads  had  sat  gorging  themselves  in  the  cavities  of  the  walls 
— ^fantastic  caverns  of  green  moss  and  slimy  filaments — a  crust 
of  ice  hung  over  all;  a  grimy  glacer,  which  extended  from  the 
attics  right  down  to  the  fioor  of  the  court. 

Where  were  they  now,  the  grimy,  joyful  children?  And 
what  of  the  evening  carouse  of  the  hearse-driver,  for  which  his 
wife  would  soundly  thrash  him?  And  the  quarrelsome  women's 
voices,  which  would  suddenly  break  out  over  this  or  that  railing, 
criticizing  the  whole  court,  sharp  as  so  many  razors? 

The  frost  was  harder  than  ever  I  It  had  swept  all  these 
things  away  and  had  locked  them  up  as  closely  as  might  be. 
The  hurdy-gurdy  man  lay  down  below  in  his  cellar,  and  had  as 
visitor  that  good  friend  of  the  north  wind,  the  gout;  and  down 
in  the  deserted  court  the  draught  went  shuffling  along  the  drip- 
ping walls.  Whenever  any  one  entered  the  tunnel-entry  the 
draught  clutched  at  his  knees  with  icy  fingers,  so  that  the  pain 
penetrated  to  the  very  heart. 

There  stood  the  old  barrack,  staring  emptily  out  of  its  black 
windows.  The  cold  had  stripped  away  the  last  shred  of  figured 
curtain,  and  sent  it  packing  to  the  pawn-shop.  It  had  ex- 
changed the  canary  for  a  score  of  firewood,  and  had  put  a  stop 
to  the  day-long,  lonely  crying  of  the  little  children  behind  the 
locked  doors — ^that  hymn  of  labor,  which  had  ceased  only  in  the 
evening,  when  the  mothers  returned  from  the  factories.  Now 
the  mothers  sat  with  their  children  all  day  long,  and  no  one  but 

2t7 


238  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

I 

the  cold  gradged  ihem  this  delight.  But  the  cold  and  its  sister, 
hunger,  came  every  day  to  look  in  upon  them. 

On  the  third  floor,  away  from  the  court,  Widow  Johnsen  sat 
in  the  comer  by  the  stove.  Banners  little  girl  lay  cowering  on 
the  floor,  on  a  tattered  patchwork  counterpane.  Through  the 
naked  window  one  saw  only  ice,  as  though  the  atmosphere  were 
frozen  down  to  the  ground.  Transparent  spots  had  formed  on 
the  window-panes  every  time  the  child  had  breathed  on  them  in 
order  to  look  out,  but  they  had  soon  closed  up  again.  The  old 
woman  sat  staring  straight  into  the  stove  with  big,  round  eyes; 
her  little  head  quivered  continually;  she  was  like  a  bird  of  ill 
omen,  that  knew  a  great  deal  more  than  any  one  could  bear  to 
hear. 

'^ow  I'm  cold  again,  grandmother,''  said  the  child  quietly. 

'Iton't  keep  from  shivering,  then  youll  be  warm,"  said  the 
old  woman. 

''Are  you  shivering?'* 

**No,  I'm  too  old  and  stiff  for  it — ^I  cant  shiver  any  more. 
But  the  cold  numbs  my  limbs,  so  that  I  can't  feel  them.  I 
could  manage  well  enough  if  it  wasn't  for  my  back." 

^rf  ou  lean  your  back  against  the  cold  stove  too !" 

^TTes,  the  cold  grips  my  poor  back  so." 

*^ut  thaf  s  stupid,  when  the  stove  isn't  going." 

^ut  if  only  my  back  would  get  numb  tool"  said  the  old 
woman  piteously. 

The  child  was  silent,  and  turned  her  head  away. 

Over  the  whole  of  the  wall  were  tiny  glittering  crystals.  Now 
and  again  there  was  a  rustling  sound  under  the  wall-paper. 

^'Grandmother,  what's  that  funny  noise?"  asked  the  child. 

'Thaf  8  the  bugs — ^they  are  coming  down,"  said  the  old 
woman.  'If s  too  cold  for  them  up  there  in  the  attics,  and 
they  dont  like  it  here.  You  should  see  them ;  they  go  to  Olson's 
wifli  the  warm  wall;  they  stay  there  in  the  cold." 

*T[s  the  wall  at  Olson's  always  warm,  then?" 

"Tee,  when  there's  fire  in  the  boiler  of  the  steam  mill." 

Then  the  child  was  silent  a  while,  wearily  tumihg  her  head 
from  side  to  side.  A  deadful  weariness  was  stamped  on  her 
face.    ''I'm  cold,"  she  complained  after  a  time. 

"See  if  you  can't  shiver  I" 


THE   GBEAT   STBITGGLE  239 

hadn't  I  better  jump  a  bit?** 

^0,  then  you'd  jnst  swallow  down  the  cold — ^the  air  is  like 
ice.  Just  keep  still,  and  soon  mother  will  be  here,  and  she^l 
bring  something !'' 

''She  never  gets  anything,**  said  the  child.  ''Whai  she  gets 
there  it's  always  all  over.** 

*That*s  not  true,**  said  Madam  Johnsen  severely.  '*There*B 
food  enough  in  the  soup  kitchens  for  all;  it*s  just  a  matter  of 
understanding  how  to  go  about  it.  The  poor  must  get  shame 
out  of  their  heads.    She'll  bring  something  to-day!** 

The  child  stood  up  and  breathed  a  hole  in  tiie  ice  on  the 
window-pane. 

'^Look  now,  whether  it  isn*t  going  to  snow  a  little  so  that 
the  poor  man  can  get  yet  another  day*s  employment,'*  said  the 
old  woman. 

No,  the  wind  was  still  blowing  from  the  north,  although  it 
conmionly  shuffled  along  the  canal;  but  now,  week  after  week, 
it  blew  from  the  Nicolai  tower,  and  played  the  flute  on  the  hol- 
low bones  of  poverty.  The  canals  were  covered  with  ice,  and 
the  ground  looked  horribly  hard.  The  naked  frost  chased  the 
people  across  it  like  withered  leaves.  With  a  thin  rustling 
sound  they  were  swept  across  the  bridges  and  disappeared. 

A  great  yellow  van  came  driving  by.  The  huge  gates  of 
the  prison  opened  slowly  and  swallowed  it.  It  was  tiie  van  con- 
taining the  meat  for  the  prisoners.  The  child  followed  it  with 
a  desolate  expression. 

''Mother  isn*t  coming,**  she  said.    '^  am  so  hungry.** 

"She  will  soon  come — ^you  just  wait!  And  don*t  stand  in 
the  light  there;  come  here  in  the  comer !  The  light  strikes  the 
cold  right  through  one.** 

"But  I  feel  colder  in  the  dark.** 

"That's  just  because  you  don't  understand.  I  only  long 
now  for  the  pitch  darkness." 

"I  long  for  the  sun  I"  retorted  the  child  defiantly. 

There  was  a  creaking  of  timber  out  in  the  yard.  The  child 
ran  out  and  opened  the  door  leading  to  the  gallery.  It  was 
only  the  people  opposite,  who  were  tearing  a  step  away. 

But  then  came  mother,  with  a  tin  pail  in  her  hand,  and  a 
bundle  under  her  arm;  and  there  was  something  in  the  pail — ^it 


240  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEBOE 

looked  heavy.  Tra-Ia^Ia  I  And  the  bundle,  the  bundle !  What 
was  in  that  ?  "Mother,  mother  I*'  she  cried  shrilly,  leaning  far 
over  the  rickety  raiL 

Hanne  came  swiftly  up  the  stairs,  with  open  mouth  and  red 
cheeks;  and  a  face  peeped  out  of  every  little  nest. 

'TTow  Widow  Hanne  has  taken  the  plunge,**  they  said.  They 
knew  what  a  point  of  honor  it  had  been  with  her  to  look  after 
her  mother  and  her  child  unaided.    She  was  a  good  girL 

And  Widow  Hanne  nodded  to  them  all,  as  much  as  to  say, 
'TJ'ow  it*s  done,  thank  God!** 

She  stood  leaning  over  the  table,  and  lifted  the  cover  off 
the  pail.  ^Iiook  !**  she  said,  as  she  stirred  the  soup  with  a  ladle : 
"there's  pearl  barley  and  pot-herbs.  If  only  we  had  something 
we  could  warm  it  up  with  I** 

"We  can  tear  away  a  bit  of  the  woodwork  like  other  people,** 
said  the  mother. 

"Yes,**  replied  Hanne  breathlessly,  **yes,  why  not?  If  one 
can  beg  one  can  do  that  I** 

She  ran  out  onto  the  gallery  and  tore  away  a  few  bits  of 
trellis,  so  that  the  sound  re-echoed  through  the  court.  People 
watched  her  out  of  all  the  dark  windows.  Widow  Hanne  had 
knocked  off  the  head  of  her  pride! 

Then  they  sat  down  to  their  soup,  the  old  woman  and  the 
child,  ^^at  !**  said  Hanne,  standing  over  them  and  looking  on 
with  glowing  eyes.  Her  cheeks  were  burning.  "You  look  like 
a  flower  in  the  cold  !**  said  her  mother,  ^^ut  eat,  yourself,  or 
you*ll  starve  to  death.** 

No,  Hanne  would  not  eat  "I  feel  so  light,*'  sbe  said,  "I 
don*t  need  any  food.**  She  stood  there  fingering  her  bundle; 
all  her  features  were  quivering,  and  her  mouth  was  like  that 
of  a  person  sick  of  a  fever. 

"What  have  you  there  ?**  asked  Madam  Johnsen. 

"Clothes  for  you  and  little  Marie.  You  were  so  cold.  I 
got  them  downstairs  from  the  old  clothes  woman — they  were 
80  cheap.** 

'*Do  you  say  you  .bought  them?** 

"Yes — ^I  got  them  on  credit.** 

"Well,  well,  if  you  haven*t  given  too  much  for  them !  But 
it  will  do  one  good  to  have  something  warm  on  one*8  bade  I** 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  841 

Hanne  undid  the  bundle^  while  the  others  looked  on  in  sus- 
pense. A  light  summer  dress  made  its  appearance^  pleated  and 
low-necked,  bine  as  little  Marie's  eyes,  and  a  pair  of  thin  kid 
shoes.  The  child  and  the  old  woman  gazed  wonderingly  at  the 
dress.  '*How  fine  !**  they  said.  They  had  forgotten  everything, 
and  were  all  admiration.  But  Hanne  stood  staring  with  horror, 
and  suddenly  burst  into  sobs. 

**Come,  come,  Hanne  I''  said  her  mother,  clapping  her  on 
the  back.  'TTou  have  bought  a  dress  for  yourself — ^that's  not 
so  dreadful  I    Youth  will  have  its  rights.*' 

"No,  mother,  no,  I  didn't  buy  it  at  all !  I  knew  you  both 
needed  something  to  keep  you  warm,  so  I  went  into  a  fine  house 
and  asked  if  they  hadnt  any  cast-off  things,  and  there  was  a 
young  lady — she  gave  me  this — and  she  was  so  kind.  No,  I 
didn't  know  at  all  what  was  in  the  bundle — ^I  really  didnt  know, 
dear  mother  1" 

'^ell,  well,  they  are  fine  enough  1"  said  the  old  woman, 
spreading  the  dress  out  in  front  of  her.  ^'They  are  fine  things !" 
But  Hanne  put  the  things  together  and  threw  them  into  the 
comer  by  the  stove. 

^ou  are  ill !"  said  her  mother,  gazing  at  her  searchingly ; 
'^pur  eyes  are  blazing  like  fire." 

The  darkness  descended,  and  they  went  to  bed.  People 
burned  no  useless  lights  in  those  days,  and  it  was  certainly  best 
to  be  in  bed.  They  had  laid  the  feather-bed  over  themselves 
cross-wise,  when  it  comfortably  covered  all  three;  their  day- 
time clothes  they  laid  over  their  feet.  Little  Marie  lay  in  the 
middle.  No  harm  could  come  to  her  there.  They  talked  at 
random  about  indifferent  matters.  Hanne's  voice  sounded  loud 
and  cheerful  in  the  darkness  as  though  it  came  from  a  radiant 
countryside. 

**Tou  are  so  restless,"  said  the  mother.  *Won*t  you 
try  to  sleep  a  little?  I  can  feel  the  burning  in  you  from 
here!" 

*«I  feel  so  light,"  repKed  Hanne  ;**I  can't  KestilL"  But  she 
did  lie  still,  gazing  into  space  and  humming  inaudibly  to  her- 
self, while  tiie  fever  raged  in  her  veins. 

After  a  time  the  old  woman  awoke;  she  was  cold.  Hanne 
was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  with  open  mouth;  and 


242  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

was  engaged  in  putting  on  her  fine  linen  underclothing  by  the 
light  of  a  candle-end. 

Her  breath  came  in  short  gasps  and  hung  white  on  the  air. 

^Are  you  standing  there  naked  in  the  cold?''  said  Madam 
Johnsen  reproachfully,  '^ou  ought  to  take  a  little  care  of 
yourself.*^ 

**Why,  mother^  I*m  so  warm  I   Why,  if  s  smnmer  now  P 

^'What  are  you  doing,  child?'* 

'?  am  only  making  myself  a  little  bit  smarts  mother  dear  I** 

*Tres,  yes — dance,  my  baby.  YouVe  still  got  the  best  of 
your  youth  before  you,  poor  child  I  Why  didn't  you  get  a  hus- 
band where  you  got  the  child  from  ?" 

Hanne  only  hummed  a  tune  to  herself,  and  proceeded  to  don 
the  bright  blue  summer  costume.  It  was  a  little  full  across  the 
chest,  bu{  the  deoolletage  sat  snugly  over  her  uncovered  bosom. 
A  faint  doud  of  vapor  surrounded  her  person  like  a  summer 
haze. 

Her  mother  had  to  hook  up  the  dress  at  the  back.  ^  only 
we  dont  wake  Marie !"  she  whispered,  entirely  absorbed  by  ihe 
dress.  ^And  the  fine  lace  on  the  chemise — ^you  can  always  let 
that  peep  out  of  the  dress  a  little — it  looks  so  pretty  like  thai 
Now  you  reaUy  look  like  a  summer  girl !" 

^11  just  run  down  and  show  it  to  Madam  Olsen,"  said 
Hanne,  pressing  her  hand  to  her  glowing  cheeks. 

**Tes,  do — ^poor  folks'  joys  must  have  their  due,"  replied  the 
old  woman,  turning  over  to  the  wall. 

Hanne  ran  down  the  steps  and  across  the  yard  and  out  into 
the  street.  The  ground  was  hard  and  ringing  in  the  frost,  the 
cold  was  angry  and  biting,  but  the  road  seemed  to  bum  Hanne 
through  her  thin  shoes.  She  ran  through  the  market,  across 
tiie  bridge,  and  into  the  less  crowded  quarter  of  the  city — ^right 
into  Pelle's  arms.    He  was  just  going  to  see  Father  Lasse. 

Pelle  was  wearied  and  stupefied  with  the  continual  battle 
with  hard  reality.  The  bottomless  depths  of  misery  were  be- 
ginning to  waste  his  courage.  Was  it  really  of  any  use  to  hold 
tiie  many  together?  It  only  made  the  torture  yet  harder  for 
tiiem  to  bear.  But  in  a  moment  everything  looked  as  bright 
as  though  he  had  fallen  into  a  state  of  ecstasy,  as  had  often  hap- 
pened lately.    In  the  midst  of  the  sternest  realities  it  would 


THE   GBEAT   STBTTOGLB  243 

suddenly  happen  tiiat  his  soul  would  leap  within  him  and  con- 
jure up  the  new  age  of  happiness  before  his  eyes,  and  tiie  ter- 
rible dearth  filled  his  arms  to  overflowing  with  abundance  I  He 
did  not  feel  the  cold;  the  great  dearth  had  no  existence;  violent 
spiritual  excitement  and  insufScient  nourishment  made  tiie  blood 
sing  continuaUy  in  his  ears.  He  accepted  it  as  a  happy  music 
from  a  contented  world.  It  did  not  surprise  him  that  he  should 
meet  Hanne  in  summer  clothing  and  attired  as  for  a  ball. 

^elle,  my  protector!'*  she  said,  grasping  his  hand.  **Will 
you  go  to  the  dance  with  me?*' 

''That' 8  really  the  old  Hanne,**  thought  Pelle  delightedly— 
'the  careless  Princess  of  the  'Ark,*  t^d  she  is  feverish,  just  as 
she  used  to  be  then.**  He  himself  was  in  a  fever.  When  their 
eyes  met  they  emitted  a  curious,  cold,  sparkling  light.  He  had 
quite  forgotten  Father  Lasse  and  his  errand,  and  went  with 
Hanne. 

The  entrance  of  "The  Seventh  Heaven**  was  flooded  with 
light,  which  exposed  the  merciless  cold  of  the  street.  Outside, 
in  the  sea  of  light,  thronged  the  children  of  the  terrible  winter, 
dishevelled  and  perishing  with  the  cold.  They  stood  there  shud- 
dering, or  felt  in  their  pockets  for  a  flve-ore  piece,  and  if  they 
found  it  they  slipped  through  the  blood-red  tunnel  into  the 
dancing-halL 

But  it  was  cold  in  there  too;  their  breath  hung  like  white 
powder  on  the  air;  and  crystals  of  ice  glittered  on  the  polished 
floor.  Who  would  dream  of  heating  a  room  where  the  joy  of 
life  was  burning?  and  a  thousand  candles?  Here  carelessness 
was  wont  to  give  of  its  abundance,  so  that  the  lofty  room  lay 
in  a  cloud  and  the  musicians  were  bathed  in  sweat. 

But  now  the  cold  had  put  an  end  to  that.  Unemployed 
workers  lounged  about  the  tables,  disinclined  for  movement. 
Winter  had  not  left  the  poor  fellows  an  ounce  of  frivolity. 
Cerberus  Olsen  might  spare  himself  the  trouble  of  going  round 
with  his  giant  arms  outspread,  driving  the  two  or  three  couples 
of  dancers  with  their  flve-ore  pieces  indoors  toward  the  music, 
as  though  they  had  been  a  whole  crowd.  People  only  toiled 
across  the  floor  in  order  to  have  the  right  to  remain  there. 
Good  Lord!  Some  of  them  had  rings  and  watches,  and  Cer- 
berus had  ready  cash — ^what  sort  of  dearth  was  that  ?    The  men 


244  PELLE   THE   CONQUBROE 

8at  under  the  painted  ceiling  and  tiie  gilded  mirrors,  over  a 
glass  of  beer,  leaving  the  girls  to  freeze — even  Elvira  had  to  sit 
still,  ^^aznrka  !**  bellowed  Cerberus,  going  threateninglj  from 
table  to  table.  They  slunk  into  the  hall  like  beaten  curs,  de- 
jectedly danced  once  round  the  floor,  and  paid. 

But  what  is  this?  Is  it  not  Summer  herself  stepping  into 
the  hall  ?  All  glowing  and  lightly  clad  in  the  blue  of  forget-me- 
nots,  with  a  rose  in  her  fair  hair?  Warmth  lies  like  fleeting 
summer  upon  her  bare  shoulders,  although  she  has  come  straight 
out  of  the  terrible  winter,  and  she  steps  with  boldly  moving 
limbs,  like  a  daughter  of  joy.  How  proudly  she  carries  her 
bosom,  as  though  she  were  the  bride  of  fortune — and  how  she 
bumsl    Who  is  she?    Can  no  one  say? 

Oh,  that  is  Widow  Hanne,  a  respectable  girl,  who  for  seven 
long  years  faithfully  trod  her  way  to  and  from  the  factory,  in 
order  to  keep  her  old  mother  and  her  child  I 

But  how  comes  it  then  that  she  has  the  discreet  Pelle  on 
her  arm  ?  He  who  has  sold  his  own  youth  to  the  devil,  in  order 
to  alleviate  poverty?  What  does  he  want  here  on  the  dancing- 
floor?  And  Hanne,  whence  did  she  get  her  finery?  She  is  still 
out  of  employment !  And  how  in  aU  the  world  has  she  grown 
so  beautiful? 

They  whisper  behind  her,  following  her  as  she  advances; 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  hall  she  stands  still  and  smiles.  Her 
eyes  bum  with  a  volcanic  fire.  A  young  man  rushes  forward, 
and  encircles  her  with  his  arm.  A  dance  with  Hanne!  A 
dance  with  Hanne  I 

Hanne  dances  with  a  peculiar  hesitation,  as  though  her  joy 
had  brought  her  from  far  away.  Heavily,  softly,  she  weighs  on 
tiie  arms  of  her  partners,  and  the  warmth  rises  from  her  bare 
bosom  and  dispels  the  cold  of  the  terrible  winter.  It  is  as 
though  she  were  on  fire  I    Who  could  fail  to  be  warmed  by  her? 

Now  the  room  is  warm  once  more.  Hanne  is  like  a  blazing 
meteor  that  kindles  all  as  it  circles  round ;  where  she  glides  past 
the  fire  springs  up  and  the  blood  nms  warmly  in  the  veins. 
They  overturn  the  chairs  in  their  eagerness  to  dance  with  her. 
'*Hi,  steward!  Five  kroner  on  my  watch— only  be  quick!*' 
"Ach,  Hanne,  a  dance  with  me  V' — ^^*Do  you  remember  we  were 
at  the  factory  together  V* — ^^*We  used  to  go  to  school  together  !** 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  246 

Hanne  does  not  reply,  but  she  leaves  Pelle  and  lays  her 
naked  arm  upon  their  shoulders,  and  if  they  touch  it  with  their 
cheeks  the  fire  streams  through  them.  They  do  not  want  to 
let  her  go  again;  they  hold  her  fast  embraced,  gliding  along 
with  her  to  where  the  musicians  are  sitting,  where  all  have  to 
pay.  No  word  passes  her  lips,  but  the  fire  within  her  is  a  prom- 
ise to  each  of  them,  a  promise  of  things  most  precious,  ^^ay 
I  see  you  home  to-night  ?''  they  whisper,  hanging  on  her  silent 
lips. 

But  to  Pelle  she  speaks  as  they  glide  along.  'Telle,  how 
strong  you  are  I  Why  have  you  never  taken  me?  Do  you  love 
me?''  Her  hand  is  clasping  his  shoulder  as  she  whirls  along 
beside  him.    Her  breath  bums  in  his  ear. 

'^  don't  know !"  he  says  uneasily.  'TJut  stop  now — ^you  are 
ilL** 

^old  me  like  that!  Why  have  you  never  been  stronger 
than  I  ?    Do  you  want  me,  PeUe  ?    FU  be  yours  P 

Pelle  shakes  his  head,  '^o,  I  love  you  only  like  a  sister 
now.'* 

''And  now  I  love  you !  Look — ^you  are  so  distant  to  me — ^I 
don't  understand  you — and  your  hand  is  as  hard  as  if  you  came 
from  anoth^  world  I  You  are  heavy,  Pelle !  Have  you  brought 
me  happiness  from  a  foreign  land  with  you?" 

"Hanne,  you  are  ill  t    Stop  now  and  let  me  take  you  home  t" 

Telle,  you  were  not  the  right  one.  What  is  there  strange 
about  you?  Nothing  I  So  let  me  alone — ^I  am  going  to  dance 
with  the  others  as  well  t" 

Hitherto  Hanne  has  been  .dancing  without  intermission. 
The  men  stand  waiting  for  her ;  when  one  releases  her  ten  spring 
forward,  and  this  evening  Hanne  wants  to  dance  with  them  all. 
Every  one  of  them  should  be  permitted  to  warm  himself  by 
her!  Her  eyes  are  like  sparks  in  the  darkness;  her  silent  de- 
meanor excites  them;  they  swing  her  round  more  and  more 
wildly.  Those  who  cannot  dance  with  her  must  slake  the  fire 
within  them  with  drink.  The  terrible  winter  is  put  to  flight, 
and  it  is  warm  as  in  Hell  itself.  The  blood  is  seething  in  ^eir 
brains;  it  injects  the  whites  of  their  eyes,  and  expresses 
itself  in  wanton  frolic,  in  a  need  to  dance  till  they  drop,  or 
to  fight. 


246  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

^^Hanne  is  wild  to-night — she  has  got  her  second  youth,'' 
says  Elvira  and  the  other  girk  maliciously. 

Hold  your  tongues.  No  one  shall  criticize  Hanne's  be- 
hayiorl  It  is  wonderful  to  touch  her;  the  touch  of  her  akiii 
hurts  one,  as  though  she  was  not  flesh  and  blood,  but  fire  from 
Heaven  I  They  say  she  has  not  had  a  bite  of  food  for  a  week. 
The  old  woman*  and  the  child  have  had  all  there  was.  And  yet 
she  is  burning !  And  see,  she  has  now  been  dancing  without  a 
break  for  two  whole  hours !  Can  one  understand  such  a  thing? 
Hanne  dances  like  a  messenger  from  another  world,  where  fire, 
not  cold,  is  the  condition  of  life.  Every  dancer  leaves  his  part- 
ner in  the  lurch  as  soon  as  she  is  free !  How  lightly  she  dances! 
Dancing  with  her,  one  soars  upward,  far  away  from  the  cold. 
One  forgets  all  misery  in  her  eyes. 

But  she  has  grown  paler  and  paler;  she  is  dancing  tiie  fire 
out  of  her  body  while  others  are  dancing  it  in!  Now  she  is 
quite  white,  and  Olsen's  Elvira  comes  up  and  tugs  at  her  dress, 
with  anxiety  in  her  glance.  ^fHanne,  Hanne !''  But  Hanne  does 
not  see  her;  she  is  only  longing  for  the  next  pair  of  arms — ^her 
eyes  are  closed.  She  has  so  much  to  make  up  for !  And  who 
so  innocent  as  she?  She  does  not  once  realize  that  she  is  rob- 
bing others  of  their  pleasure.  Is  she  suffering  from  vertigo  or 
St  Vitus's  dance,  in  her  widowhood  ? 

Hold  your  tongue!  How  beautiful  she  is!  Now  she  is 
growing  rosy  again,  and  opening  her  eyes.  Fire  darts  from 
them;  she  has  brought  Pelle  out  of  his  comer  and  is  whis- 
pering something  to  him,  blushing  as  she  does  so;  per- 
haps that  precious  promise  that  hitherto  no  one  has  been 
able  to  draw  from  her.  Pelle  must  always  be  the  lucky 
man! 

*Telle,  why  don't  you  dance  with  me  of  tener  ?  Why  do  you 
sit  in  the  comer  there  always  and  sulk?  Are  you  angry  with 
me  as  you  used  to  be,  and  why  are  you  so  hard  and  cold?  And 
your  clothes  are  quite  stifiE  \^ 

^T.  come  from  outside  all  this — ^from  the  terrible  winter, 
Hanne,  where  the  children  are  crying  for  bread,  and  the  women 
dying  of  starvation,  and  the  men  go  about  with  idle  hands  and 
look  on  the  ground  because  they  are  ashamed  of  their  unem- 
ployment!'' 


THE   GREAT   STEUGGLE  247 

^ut  why?  It  is  still  summer.  Only  look  how  cheerful 
every  one  is  I    Take  me,  then,  Pelle  1^' 

Hanne  grows  red,  redder  than  blood,  and  leans  her  head  on 
his  shoulder.  Only  see  how  she  surrenders  herself,  blissful  in 
her  unashamed  ecstasy  I  She  droops  backward  in  his  arms,  and 
from  between  her  lips  springs  a  great  rose  of  blood,  that  gushes 
down  over  the  summer-blue  dress. 

Fastened  to  the  spot  by  his  terrible  burden,  Pelle  stands 
there  unable  to  move.  He  can  only  gaze  at  Hanne,  until  Cer- 
berus takes  her  in  his  gianf  s  arms  and  bears  her  out.  She  is  so 
light  in  her  summer  finery — she  weighs  nothing  at  all  1 

^'Mazurka  !'^  he  bellows,  as  he  returns,  and  goes  command- 
ingly  along  the  ranks  of  dancers. 


XXVI 

At  the  end  of  January,  Pelle  obtained  a  place  as  laborer  in 
the  'Denmark''  machine  works.  He  was  badly  paid,  but  Ellen 
rejoiced,  none  the  less;  with  nothing  one  could  only  cry — ^with 
a  little  one  could  grow  strong  again.  She  was  still  a  little  pale 
after  her  confinement,  but  she  looked  courageous.  At  the  first 
word  of  work  her  head  was  seething  with  comprehensive  plans. 
She  began  at  once  to  redeem  various  articles  and  to  pay  oflE  little 
debts;  she  planned  out  a  whole  system  and  carried  it  out 
imdeviatingly. 

The  new  sister  was  something  for  Young  Lasee;  he  tmder- 
stood  immediately  that  she  was  some  one  given  to  him  in  order 
to  amuse  him  in  his  loneliness. 

During  the  confinement  he  had  remained  with  his  grand- 
parents, so  that  the  stork  should  not  carry  him  away  when  it 
came  with  his  little  sister — ^f  or  he  was  dear  to  them  I  But  when 
he  returned  home  she  was  lying  asleep  in  her  cradle.  He  just 
touched  her  eyelids,  to  see  if  she  had  eyes  like  his  own.  They 
snatched  his  fingers  away,  so  he  could  not  solve  tilie  exciting 
problem  that  day. 

But  sister  had  eyes,  great  dark  eyes,  which  followed  him 
about  the  room,  past  the  head  of  the  bed  and  round  the  other 
side,  always  with  the  same  attentive  expression,  while  the  round 
cheeks  went  out  and  in  like  those  of  a  sucking  animal.  And 
Young  Lasse  felt  very  distinctly  that  one^was  imder  obligations 
when  eyes  followed  one  about  like  thai  He  was  quite  a  little 
man  already,  and  he  longed  to  be  noticed;  so  he  ran  about 
making  himself  big,  and  rolling  over  like  a  clown,  and  playing 
the  strong  man  with  the  footstool,  while  his  sister  followed  him 
with  her  eyes,  without  moving  a  muscle  of  her  face.  He  felt 
that  she  might  have  vouchsafed  him  a  little  applause,  when  he 
had  given  himself  so  much  trouble. 

248 


THE   GBEAT   STEUGGLE  249 

One  day  he  inflated  a  paper  bag  and  burst  it  before  her  face. 
That  was  a  help.  Sister  forgot  her  impertnrbability^  gave  a 
jnmp^  and  began  to  roar.  He  was  smacked  for  that^  but  he  had 
his  compensation.  Her  little  face  began  to  quiver  directly  he 
approached  her^  in  order  to  show  her  something;  and  she  often 
b^an  to  roar  before  he  had  performed  his  trick.  ''Go  away 
from  your  sister,  Lasse  Frederik  1'*  said  his  mother.  'TTou  are 
frightening  her  V^ 

But  things  were  quite  different  only  a  month  later.  There 
was  no  one  who  understood  Young  Lasse's  doings  better  than 
sister.  If  he  did  but  move  his  plump  little  body,  or  uttered  a 
sound,  she  twittered  like  a  starling. 

Ellen's  frozen  expression  had  disappeared ;  now  that  she  had 
something  to  work  at  again.  The  cold  had  weaned  her  from 
many  of  her  exactions,  and  others  were  gratified  by  the  children. 
The  two  little  ones  kept  her  very  busy;  she  did  not  miss  PeDe 
now.  She  had  become  accustomed  to  his  being  continually 
away  from  home,  and  she  had  taken  possession  of  him  in  her 
thoughts,  in  her  own  fashion ;  she  held  imaginary  conversations 
with  him  as  she  went  about  her  work;  and  it  was  a  joy  to  her  to 
make  him  comfortable  during  the  E^ort  time  that  he  was  at 
home. 

Pelle  conceived  his  home  as  an  intimate  little  world,  in 
which  he  could  take  shelter  when  he  was  weary.  He  had 
redeemed  that  obscure  demand  in  Ellen's  eyes — ^in  the  shape  of 
two  dear  little  creatures  that  gave  her  plenty  to  do.  Now  it  was 
her  real  self  that  advanced  to  meet  him.  And  there  was  a 
peculiar  loyalty  about  her,  that  laid  hold  of  his  heart;  she  no 
longer  resented  his  small  earnings,  and  she  did  not  reproach 
him  because  he  was  only  a  workman. 

He  had  been  obliged  to  resign  his  position  as  president  of 
his  Union  on  account  of  his  longer  hours.  There  was  no  pros- 
pect at  present  of  his  being  able  to  return  to  his  vocation;  but 
the  hard  bodily  labor  agreed  with  him. 

In  order  to  help  out  his  small  earnings,  he  busied  himself 
with  repairs  in  the  evenings.  Ellen  helped  him,  and  they  sat 
together  and  gossiped  over  their  work.  They  ignored  the  labor 
movement — it  did  not  interest  Ellen,  and  he  by  no  means 
objected  to  a  brief  lest  from  it.    Young  Lasse  sat  at  the  table. 


260  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

drawing  and  putting  in  his  word  now  and  then.  Often,  when 
Pelle  brought  out  the  work,  Ellen  had  done  the  greater  part  of 
it  during  the  day,  and  had  only  left  what  she  did  not  under- 
stand.   In  return  he  devised  litUe  ways  of  pleasing  her. 

In  the  new  year  the  winter  was  not  so  severe.  Already  in 
February  the  first  promise  of  spring  was  perceptible.  One 
noticed  it  in  EUen. 

^'Shan't  we  pack  a  picnic-basket  and  go  out  to  one  of  the 
beer-gardens  on  Sunday  ?  It  would  do  the  children  good  to  get 
into  the  air/'  she  would  say. 

Pelle  was  very  willing.  But  on  Sunday  there  was  a  meeting 
of  the  party  leaders  and  a  meeting  concerning  the  affairs  of  the 
factory — ^he  must  be  present  at  both.  And  in  the  evening  he 
had  promised  to  speak  before  a  trade  union. 

*Tnien  well  go  out  ourselves,  the  children  and  IP  said 
Ellen  peacefully.  When  they  came  home  it  seemed  they  had 
amused  themselves  ezceUently;  Pelle  was  no  longer  indis- 
pensable. 

•  *  *  •  • 

The  hard  winter  was  over  at  last.  It  was  still  freezing — 
especially  at  night — ^but  the  people  knew  it  was  over  in  spite 
of  that.  And  the  ice  in  the  canals  knew  it  also.  It  began  to 
show  fractures  running-  in  all  directions,  and  to  drift  out 
toward  the  sea.  Even  the  houses  gave  one  a  feeling  of  spring; 
they  were  brighter  in  hue ;  and  the  sun  was  shining  into  the  sky 
overhead;  if  one  looked  for  it  one  could  see  it  glowing  above 
the  roofs.  Down  in  the  narrow  lanes  and  the  well-like  court- 
yards the  children  stamped  about  in  the  snowy  slush  and  sang 
to  the  sun  which  they  could  not  see. 

People  began  to  recover  from  the  long  privations  of  the 
winter.  The  cold  might  return  at  any  moment;  but  all  were 
united  in  their  belief  in  the  spring.  The  starlings  began  to 
make  their  appearance,  and  the  moisture  of  the  earth  rose  again 
to  the  surface  and  broke  its  way  through  the  hard  crust,  in  daric 
patches;  and  business  ventured  to  raise  its  head.  A  peculiar 
universal  will  seemed  to  prevail  in  all  things.  Down  under  the 
earth  it  sprouted  amid  frost  and  snow,  and  crept  forth,  yoimg, 
and  seemingly  brought  forth  by  the  cold  itself;  and  in  all  things 
frozen  by  winter  the  promise  unfolded  itself — ^in  spite  of  alL 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  261 

The  workmen's  quarter  of  the  city  began  to  revive ;  now  it  was 
once  more  of  some  nse  to  go  about  looking  for  work.  It  did 
one  good  to  get  out  and  walk  in  the  daylight  for  a  while.  And 
it  also  did  one  good  once  more  to  fill  one's  belly  every  day  and 
to  fetch  the  household  goods  home  from  the  pawn-shop^  and  to 
air  one's  self  a  little,  until  one's  turn  came  round  again. 

But  things  did  not  go  as  well  as  they  should  have  done.  It 
looked  as  though  the  cold  had  completely  crippled  the  sources 
of  commercial  activity.  The  spring  came  nearer;  the  sun  rose 
higher  every  day,  and  began  to  recover  its  power;  but  business 
showed  no  signs  of  real  recovery  as  yet;  it  did  no  more  than 
supply  what  was  needed  from  day  to  day.  There  was  no  life 
in  it,  as  there  had  been  of  old !  At  this  time  of  the  year  manu- 
facturers were  glad  as  a  rule  to  increase  their  stocks,  so  as  to 
meet  the  demands  of  the  summer;  it  was  usual  to  make  up  for 
the  time  lost  during  the  winter;  the  workers  would  put  forth 
their  utmost  strength,  and  would  woi'k  overtime. 

Many  anxious  questions  were  asked.  What  was  the  matter? 
Why  didn't  things  get  going  again  ?  The  Working  Man  for  the 
present  offered  no  explanation,  but  addnsssed  a  covert  warning 
to  certain  people  that  they  had  best  not  form  an  alliance  with 
want 

GraduaUy  the  situation  assumed  more  definite  outlines;  the 
employers  were  making  preparations  of  some  kind,  for  which 
reason  they  did  not  resume  business  with  any  great  vigor.  In 
spite  of  their  privations  during  the  winter,  the  workers  had  once 
again  returned  some  of  their  own  representatives  to  Parliament, 
and  now  they  were  getting  ready  to  strike  a  blow  at  the  munic- 
ipal elections.  That  was  the  thing  to  do  now!  And  in  the 
forefront  of  the  battle  stood  the  ever-increasing  organization 
which  now  included  all  vocations  and  the  whole  country  a  single 
body,  and  which  claimed  a  decisive  voice  in  th6  ordering  of 
conditions  I  The  poor  man  was  made  to  feel  how  little  he  could 
accomplish  without  those  who  kept  everything  going ! 

In  the  meantime  there  were  rumors  that  a  lock-out  was 
being  prepared,  affecting  every  occupation,  and  intended  to 
destroy  the  Federation  at  one  blow.  But  that  was  inconceiv- 
able. They  had  experienced  only  small  lock-outs,  when  there 
vas  disagreement  about  some  particular  point.    That  any  one 


262  PELLE  THE   CONQXTEBOB 

could  think  of  settiMg  the  winter's  distress  in  opposition  to  the 
will  of  Nature,  when  every  man  was  willing  to  work  on  the 
basis  of  the  current  tariff — ^no,  the  idea  was  too  fiendish  I 

But  one  distinction  was  being  made.  Men  who  had  done 
any  particular  work  for  the  movement  would  find  it  more  diffi- 
cult to  obtain  employment  They  would  be  degraded,  or  simply 
replaced  by  others,  when  they  applied  for  their  old  places  after 
the  standstill  of  tiie  winter.  Uncertainty  prevailed,  especially 
in  those  trades  which  had  the  longest  connection  with  the  labor 
organization ;  one  could  not  but  perceive  this  to  be  a  consequence 
of  combination.  For  that  reason  the  feeling  of  insecurity  in- 
creased. Every  one  felt  that  the  situation  was  unendurable  and 
untenable,  and  foresaw  some  malicious  stroke.  Especially  in 
the  iron  industry  relations  were  extremely  strained;  the  iron- 
founders  were  always  a  hard-handed  lot;  it  was  there  that  one 
first  saw  what  was  about  to  develop. 

Pelle  anxiously  watched  events.  If  a  confiict  were  to  occur 
just  now,  it  would  mean  a  defeat  of  the  workers,  who  were  with- 
out supplies  and  were  stripped  to  the  buff.  With  the  winter  had 
ceased  even  the  small  chance  of  employment  on  the  ramparts; 
it  was  obvious  that  an  assault  would  shatter  their  cohesion.  He 
did  not  express  his  anxieties  to  them.  They  were  at  bottom  like 
little  children;  it  would  do  no  good  for  them  to  suffer  too  great 
anxiety.  But  to  the  leaders  he  insisted  that  they  must  con- 
trive to  avoid  a  conflict,  even  if  it  entailed  concessions.  For  the 
first  time  Pelle  proposed  a  retreat  1 

One  week  followed  another,  and  the  tension  increased,  but 
nothing  happened.  The  employers  were  afraid  of  public 
opinion.  The  winter  had  struck  terrible  blows;  they  dared  not 
assume  the  responsibility  for  declaring  war. 

e  *  *  *  * 

In  the  'O^enmark''  machine-works  the  tension  was  of  long 
standing.  At  the  time  when  the  farmers  were  compelled,  by  the 
conditions  of  the  world-market,  to  give  up  the  cultivation  of 
cereals  for  dairy-farming,  the  directors  of  the  factory  had  per- 
ceived in  advance  that  the  future  would  lie  in  that  direction, 
and  had  begun  to  produce  dairy  machinery.  The  factory  suc- 
ceeded in  constructing  a  centrifugal  separator  which  had  a  great 
sale,  and  this  new  branch  of  industry  absorbed  an  ever-incieas- 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  258 

ing  body  of  workers.  Hitherto  the  best-qualified  men  had  been 
selected;  they  were  continually  improving  the  manufacture^  and 
the  sales  were  increasing  both  at  home  and  abroad.  The 
workers  gradually  became  so  skiUed  in  their  specialty  that  the 
manufacturers  found  themselves  compelled  to  reduce  their  wages 
— otherwise  they  would  have  earned  too  much.  This  had  hap- 
pened twice  in  the  course  of  the  years^  and  the  workers  had 
received  the  hint  that  was  necessary  to  meet  competition  in 
foreign  markets.  But  at  the  same  time  the  centrifugal  separa- 
tors were  continually  increasing  in  price^  on  account  of  the  great 
demand  for  them.  The  workers  Imd  r^arded  the  lowering  of 
their  wages  as  something  inevitable^  and  took  pains  yet  further 
to  increase  their  skilly  so  that  their  earnings  had  once  more 
come  to  represent  a  good  average  wage. 

Now^  immediately  after  the  winter  slackness^  there  were 
rumors  in  circulation  that  the  manufacturers  intended  once 
more  to  decrease  the  rate  of  pay.  But  this  time  the  men  had 
no  intention  of  accommodating  themselves  to  the  decrease. 
Their  resentment  against  the  unrighteousness  of  this  proceeding 
went  to  their  heads;  tiiey  were  very  near  demonstrating  at  the 
mere  rumor.  Pelle^  however,  succeeded  in  persuading  them  thati 
they  were  confronted  by  nothing  more  than  foolish  gossip  for 
which  no  one  was  responsible.  Afterward^  when  their  fear  had 
evaporated  and  all  was  again  goihg  as  usual,  they  came  to  him 
and  thanked  him. 

But  on  the  next  pay-day  there  was  a  notice  from  the  office 
to  the  effect  that  the  current  rate  of  wages  was  not  in  accord- 
ance with  the  times — ^it  was  to  be  improved.  This  soimded 
absolutely  innocent,  but  every  one  knew  what  lay  behind  it. 

It  was  one  of  the  first  days  of  spring.  The  sun  was  shining 
into  the  vast  workshop,  casting  great  shafts  of  light  across  it, 
and  in  the  blue  haze  pulleys  and  belts  were  revolving.  The 
workers,  as  they  stood  at  tiieir  work,  were  whistling  in  time 
with  the  many  wheels  and  the  ringing  of  metal.  They  were 
like  a  flock  of  birds,  who  have  just  landed  on  a  familiar  coast 
and  are  getting  the  spring. 

Pelle  was  carrying  in  some  raw  material  when  the  news  came 
and  extinguished  all  their  joy.  It  was  passed  on  a  scrap  of 
paper  from  man  to  man,  brief  and  callous.    The  managers  of 


254  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

the  factory  wanted  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  organization, 
but  silently  went  behind  it.  All  had  a  period  of  fourteen  days 
in  which  to  subscribe  to  the  new  tariff.  'TTo  arguments,  if  you 
please — sign,  or  gol*'  When  the  notice  came  to  Pelle  all  eyes 
were  turned  upon  him  as  though  they  expected  a  signal;  tools 
Iwere  laid  down,  but  the  machinery  ran  idly  for  a  time.  Pelle 
read  the  notice  and  then  bent  over  his  work  again. 

During  the  midday  pause  they  crowded  about  him.  ''What 
now?**  they  asked;  and  their  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him,  while 
their  hands  were  trembling.  "Hadn't  we  better  pack  up  and  go 
at  once  ?  This  shearing  will  soon  be  too  much  for  us,  if  they  do 
it  every  time  a  little  wool  has  grown  on  us.'* 

''Waitl'*  said  PeDe.  "Just  wait!  Let  the  other  side  do 
everything,  and  let  us  see  how  far  they  will  go.  Behave  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  and  get  on  with  your  work.  You  have 
the  responsibili^  of  wives  and  children  I'* 

They  grumblingly  followed  his  advice,  and  went  back  to 
their  work.  Pelle  did  not  wonder  at  them;  there  had  been  a 
time  when  he  too  would  throw  down  his  work  if  any  one  im- 
posed on  him,  even  if  everything  had  gone  to  the  devil  through 
it.  But  now  he  was  responsible  for  many — ^which  was  enough 
to  make  a  man  prudent.  "Wait  !*'  he  told  them  over  and  over 
again.  "To-morrow  we  shall  know  more  than  we  do  to-day — 
it  wants  thinking  over  before  we  deal  with  it  !'* 

So  they  put  the  new  tariff  aside  and  went  to  work  as  though 
nothing  had  happened.  The  management  of  the  factory  treated 
the  matter  as  settled ;  and  the  directors  went  about  with  a  con- 
tented look.  Pelle  wondered  at  his  comrades^  behavior;  after  a 
few  days  they  were  in  their  usual  spirits,  indulging  in  aU  kinds 
of  pastimes  during  their  meal-time. 

As  soon  as  the  whistle  sounded  at  noon  the  machinery 
stopped  running,  and  the  workers  all  dropped  their  tools.  A 
few  quickly  drew  their  coats  on,  intending  to  go  home  for  a 
mouthful  of  warm  food,  while  some  went  to  the  beer-cellars  of 
the  neighborhood.  Those  who  lived  far  from  their  homes  sat  on 
the  lathe-beds  and  ate  their  food  there.  When  the  food  was  con- 
sumed they  gathered  together  in  groups,  gossiping,  or  chaffing 
one  another.  Pelle  often  made  use  of  the  midday  rest  to  run 
over  to  the  "Ark'*  in  order  to  greet  Father  Lasse,  who  had 


THE   GBEAT   STBUGGLB  265 

obtained  work  in  one  of  the  granaries  and  was  now  able  to  get 
along  qnite  nicely. 

One  day  at  noon  PeUe  was  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  group 
of  men^  making  a  drawing  of  a  conceited^  arrogant  foreman 
with  a  scrap  of  chalk  on  a  large  iron  plate.  The  drawing 
evoked  much  merriment.  Some  of  his  comrades  had  in  the 
meantime  been  disputing  as  to  the  elevating  machinery  of  a 
submarine.  Pelle  rapidly  erased  his  caricature  and  silently 
sketched  an  elevation  of  the  machinery  in  question.  He  had 
so  often  seen  it  when  the  vessel  lay  in  the  harbor  at  home.  The 
others  were  obliged  to  admit  that  he  was  right. 

There  was  a  sudden  silence  as  one  of  the  engineers  passed 
through  the  workshop.  He  caught  sight  of  the  drawing  and 
asked  whose  work  it  was. 

Pelle  had  to  go  to  the  office  with  him.  The  engineer  asked 
him  aU  sorts  of  questions,  and  was  amazed  to  learn  that  he  had 
never  had  lessons  in  drawing.  'Terhaps  we  could  make  use  of 
you  upstairs  here/'  he  said.    'Would  you  care  for  that?'' 

Pelle's  heart  gave  a  sudden  leap.  This  was  luck,  the  real 
genuine  good  fortune  that  seized  upon  its  man  and  lifted  him 
straightway  into  a  region  of  dazzling  radiance  I  'TTes/'  he 
stammered,  **yes,  thank  you  very  muchl"  His  emotion  was 
near  choking  him. 

*Tnien  come  to-morrow  at  seven — ^to  the  drawing-office,** 
said  the  engineer.  ''No,  whaf  s  to-day  ?  Saturday.  Then  Mon- 
day morning."  And  so  the  affair  was  settled,  without  any  beat- 
ing about  the  bush  I    There  was  a  man  after  Pelle's  own  heart ! 

When  he  went  downstairs  the  men  crowded  about  him,  in 
order  to  hear  the  result.  'ITow  your  fortune's  madel"  they 
said;  ^ey'U  put  you  to  machine-drawing  now,  and  if  you 
know  your  business  you'll  get  independent  work  and  become 
a  constructor.  That's  the  way  Director  Jeppesen  got  on;  he 
started  down  here  on  the  moulding-floor,  and  now  he's  a  great 
man!"  Their  faces  were  beaming  with  delight  in  his  good 
fortune.  He  looked  at  them,  and  realized  that  they  regarded 
him  as  capable  of  anything. 

He  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  as  in  a  dream,  and  hurried 
home  to  share  the  news  with  Ellen.  He  was  quite  confused; 
there  was  a  surging  in  his  ears,  as  in  childhood,  when  life 


256  PELLE  THE   CONQUEROR 

suddenly  revealed  one  of  its  miracles  to  him.  EUen  flung  her 
arms  rotmd  his  neck  in  her  joy;  she  wonld  not  left  him  go 
egain^  but  held  him  fast  gazing  at  him  wonderingly,  as  in 
the  old  days.  'Tve  always  known  you  were  intended  for  some^ 
thing  1^'  she  said,  looking  at  him  with  pride.  'There's  no  one 
like  you!  And  now,  only  think.  But  the  children,  they  must 
know  too  !^  And  she  snatched  little  sister  from  her  sleep,  and 
informed  her  what  had  happened.    The  child  b^an  to  cry. 

^ou  are  frightening  her,  you  are  so  delighted,**  said  Pelle, 
who  was  himself  smiling  all  oyer  his  face. 

*^ut  now — now  we  shall  mix  with  genteel  people,**  said 
Ellen  suddenly,  as  she  was  laying  the  table.  ^H  only  I  can 
adapt  myself  to  it!  And  the  children  shall  go  to  the  middle- 
class  schooL** 

When  Pelle  had  eaten  he  was  about  to  sit  down  to  his 
cobbling,  '^ol**  said  Ellen  decidedly,  taking  the  work  away, 
"that's  no  work  for  you  any  longer  1'* 

*^ut  it  must  be  finished,'*  said  Pelle;  ''we  can*t  deliver  half- 
finished  work  1** 

*T11  soon  finish  it  for  you;  you  just  put  your  best  clothes 
on ;  you  look  like  a ^** 

''Like  a  working-man,  eh  ?**  said  Pelle,  smiling. 

Pelle  dressed  himself  and  went  off  to  the  "Ark**  to  give 
Father  Lasse  the  news.  Later  he  would  meet  the  others  at  his 
father-in-law's.  Lasse  was  at  home,  and  was  eating  his  supper. 
He  had  fried  himself  an  egg  over  Ihe  stove,  and  there  was  beer 
and  brandy  on  the  table.  He  had  rented  a  little  room  off  the 
long  corridor,  near  crazy  Vin8lev*s;  there  was  no  window,  but 
there  was  a  pane  of  glass  over  the  door  leading  into  the  gloomy 
passage.  The  lime  was  falling  from  the  walls,  so  that  the  cob 
was  sl^owing  in  great  patches. 

"Well,  well,**  said  Lasse,  delighted,  "so  it*s  come  to  this  I 
I've  often  wondered  to  myself  why  you  had  been  given  such 
tmprofitable  talents — such  as  lying  about  and  painting  on  the 
wdls  or  on  paper — ^you,  a  poor  laborer*s  son.  Something  mtist 
be  intended  by  that,  I  used  to  tell  myself,  in  my  own  mind; 
perhaps  it*s  the  gift  of  God  and  he*ll  get  on  by  reason  of  it! 
And  now  it  really  seems  as  if  it*s  to  find  its  use.** 

"Ifs  not  comfortable  for  you  here,  father  I"  said  Pelle. 


THE    GEEAT   STEUGGLE  257 

'*Bnt  I  shall  Boon  take  you  away  from  here,  whether  you  like  it 
or  not  When  weVe  paid  off  a  few  of  the  winter's  debts  we 
^all  be  moving  into  a  three-roomed  apartment,  and  then  youll 
have  a  room  for  your  own  use ;  but  you  mustn't  go  to  work  any 
longer  then.    You  must  be  prepared  for  that/' 

**Yes,  yes,  I've  nothing  against  living  with  you,  so  long  as 
I'm  not  taking  the  bread  out  of  others'  mouths.  Ah,  no,  Pelle, 
it  won't  be  diflBcult  for  me  to  give  up  my  work;  I  have  over- 
worked myself  ever  since  I  could  crawl ;  for  seventy  years  almost 
I've  toiled  for  my  daily  bread — ^and  now  I'm  tired  I  So  many 
thanks  for  your  kind  intentions.  I  shall  pass  the  time  well  with 
the  children.    Send  me  word  whenever  you  wilL" 

The  news  was  already  known  in  the  ''Ark,"  and  the  inmates 
came  up  to  wish  him  luck  as  he  was  leaving.  'Tou  won't  be 
running  in  here  any  more  and  gossiping  with  us  when  once 
you  are  settled  in  your  new  calling,"  they  said.  ''That  would 
never  do  I  But  don't  quite  forget  all  about  us  just  because  we 
are  poor  I" 

"No,  no,  Pelle  has  been  through  so  many  hungry  times  with 
us  poor  folks;  he's  not  one  of  those  who  forget  old  friendship  I" 
they  themselves  replied. 

Only  now,  when  he  had  left  the  "Ark,"  did  he  realize  that 
there  was  something  to  which  he  was  bidding  farewell.  It  was 
the  cordial  community  with  all  his  kind,  their  radiant  faith  in 
him,  and  his  own  beUef  in  his  mission  there;  he  had  known  a 
peculiar  joy  in  the  half-embittered  recklessness,  the  community 
of  feeling,  and  the  struggle.  Was  he  not,  so  to  speak,  the 
Prince  of  poverty,  to  whom  they  all  looked  up,  and  of  whom 
they  all  expected  that  he  would  lead  them  into  a  strange  world  ? 
And  could  he  justify  himself  for  leaving  them  all  in  the  lurch 
because  of  his  own  good  fortune?  Perhaps  he  was  really 
appointed  to  lead  the  movement — ^perhaps  he  was  the  only  one 
who  could  do  so  I 

This  belief  had  always  been  faintly  glimmering  in  the  back 
of  his  mind,  had  stood  behind  his  endurance  in  tilie  conflict^ 
and  behind  all  the  gladness  with  which  he  bore  privation. 
Was  he  in  his  arrogance  to  repudiate  the  place  that  had  formed 
him  ?  No,  he  was  not  so  blatant  as  all  that  I  There  was  plenty 
beside  himself  capable  of  seeing  the  movement  through — and 


258  PELLB  THE  CONQUEEOH 

Fortune  had  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  '^arch  f orw^^ 
Pelle  I'*  an  inward  voice  exhorted  him.  *^What  have  you  to  con- 
aider?  Yon  have  no  right  to  thrust  success  away  from  you? 
Do  you  want  to  ruin  yourself  without  profiting  others?  You 
have  been  a  good  comrade^  but  here  your  ways  divide.  €k)d 
Himself  has  given  you  talent;  even  as  a  child  you  used  to 
practise  it;  no  one  will  gain  by  yt>ur  remaiaing  poor.  Choose 
your  own  path  !'* 

Yes,  Pelle  had  chosen  readily  enough !  He  knew  very  well 
that  he  must  accept  this  good  fortune,  whatever  the  world  might 
say  to  it.  Only  it  hurt  him  to  leave  the  others  behind  I  He  was 
bound  to  poverty  by  such  intimate  ties;  he  felt  the  solidarity  of 
the  poor  so  keeidy  that  it  hurt  him  to  tear  himself  away.  Com- 
mon cares  had  made  him  a  man,  an4  the  struggle  had  given 
him  a  peculiar  and  effective  strength.  But  now  he  would 
attend  no  more  meetings !  It  would  be  droll  indeed  if  he  were 
to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  Cause,  but  were  to  belong 
to  the  other  side — ^he,  Pelle,  who  had  been  a  flaming  torch !  No, 
he  would  never  leave  them  in  the  lurch,  that  he  knew ;  even  if 
he  were  to  cHmb  ever  so  high — and  he  entertained  no  doubts  as 
to  that — ^he  would  always  feel  for  his  old  comrades  and  show 
them  the  way  to  obtain  good  relations  between  worker  and 
employer. 

EUen  saw  how  serious  he  was — ^perhaps  she  guessed  that  he 
was  feeling  remorseful.    She  would  help  him  to  get  over  that 

*'Can't  we  have  your  father  here  to-morrow  P'  she  said,  '^e 
can  lie  on  the  long  chair  in  the  living-room  until  we  move  into 
our  new  home.  It  isnt  right  to  let  him  stay  where  he  is,  and 
in  your  new  situation  you  couldnt  do  if 


XXVII 

Thb  unrest  increased  in  the  workshops  round  about;  no  one 
who  had  anything  to  do  with  the  organization  felt  really  secure. 
It  was  evidently  the  intention  of  the  employers  to  drive  the 
workers  to  extremes^  and  thereby  to  force  them  to  break  the 
peace.  'They  want  to  destroy  the  trades  unions^  so  that  they 
can  scrape  the  butter  off  our  bread  again/'  said  the  workers. 
'*They  think  itll  be  easier  now  that  the  winter  has  made  us 
thankful  for  a  dry  crust  I    But  that's  an  infernal  lie !'' 

The  masses  grew  more  and  more  embittered;  everywhere 
they  were  ready  for  a  fight^  and  asked  nothing  better  than  to 
plunge  into  it  The  women  wept  and  shuddered ;  most  of  them 
imderstood  only  that  the  sufferings  of  the  winter  were  going  to 
begin  all  over  again.  They  took  desperate  steps  to  prevent  this ; 
they  threw  their  shawls  over  their  heads  and  rushed  off  to  the 
ofBces^  to  the  manufacturers^  and  pleaded  with  them  to  avert  the 
disaster.  The  central  Committee  counselled  a  peaceful 
demeanor  and  caution.  Ever3rthing  depended  upon  their  having 
the  right  on  their  side  in  the  opinion  of  the  public. 

It  was  easy  for  Pelle  to  follow  all  that  was  happening, 
although  he  now  stood  outside  the  whole  movement.  He  went 
to  work  in  his  good  clothes  and  elastic-sided  boots,  and  did  not 
need  to  arrive  before  seven,  while  the  others  had  to  be  there  at 
six — ^which  at  once  altered  his  point  of  view. 

He  would  soon  be  trusted  with  rule  and  compasses;  for  the 
present  he  was  kept  busy  copying  a  few  worn-out  working- 
drawings,  or  '^filling  in.''  He  felt  in  a  curiously  exalted  frame 
of  mind — as  though  he  had  been  slightly  intoxicated ;  this  was 
the  first  time  in  his  life  that  he  had  been  employed  on  work 
that  was  of  a  clean  nature  and  allowed  him  to  wear  good  clothes. 
It  was  particularly  curious  to  survey  life  from  where  he  stood ; 
a  new  perspective  lay  open  before  him.    The  old  life  had  noth- 

269 


260  PELLE   THE   OONQUEEOE 

ing  in  prospect  but  a  mifierable  old  age;  but  this  led  upward. 
Here  he  conld  achieve  what  he  willed — even  the  highest  place  I 
What  if  he  finall;  crept  up  to  the  very  topmost  pointy  and 
established  an  eight-hour  day  and  a  decent  day's  wage?  Then 
he  would  show  them  that  one  could  perfectly  well  climb  up  from 
below  without  forgetting  his  origin  and  becoming  a  blood- 
sucker 1  They  should  still  drink  to  the  health  of  PeUe,  their 
good  comrade^  although  he  would  have  left  their  ranks. 

At  home  there  was  much  to  be  done;  as  soon  as  he  crossed 
the  threshold  he  was  the  prisoner  of  Ellen's  himdred  and  one 
schemes.  He  must  have  a  new  suit  of  dothes — a  gray  suit  for 
the  ofSce^  and  more  linen;  and  at  least  twice  a  week  he  must 
go  to  the  barber;  he  could  no  longer  sit  down  and  scrape  him- 
sdf  with  an  old  razor  with  an  edge  like  a  saw.  Pelle  was  made 
td  feel  that  it  was  not  so  easy  after  all  to  become  an  ^Hipper- 
dasser/'  as  he  called  it. 

And  all  this  cost  money.  There  was  the  same  searching,  the 
same  racking  of  one's  brains  to  find  the  necessary  shillings  as 
during  the  dearth  of  the  winter  famine;  but  this  time  it  was 
quite  amusing;  there  was  a  cheerful  purpose  in  it  all,  and  it 
would  only  last  until  he  had  properly  settled  down.  Lasse 
looked  very  respectable ;  he  was  wearing  Pelle's  second-best  suit, 
which  Ellen  luid  cleaned  for  him,  and  a  black  watered  silk 
crava^  with  a  white  waterproof  collar,  and  well-polished  slippers 
on  his  feet.  These  last  were  his  old  watertight  boots — those  in 
which  Pelle  had  left  Stone  Farm.  They  were  still  in  existence, 
but  had  been  cut  down  to  form  house-slippers.  The  I^  of 
them  now  formed  part  of  a  pair  of  clogs. 

Lasse  was  happiest  with  the  children,  and  he  looked  quite  an 
aged  grandfather  now,  with  his  wrinkled  faoe  and  his  kind 
glance,  which  was  now  a  little  weak-sighted.  When  Young 
Lasse  hid  himself  in  the  opposite  comer  of  the  room  Father 
Lasse  could  not  see  him,  and  the  young  rascal  took  advantage  of 
the  fact;  he  could  never  understand  those  eyes,  which  could  not 
see  farther  than  across  the  table,  and  was  always  asking  ques- 
tions about  tiiem. 

^f s  bteause  I  have  seen  too  much  misery  in  my  life,"  the 
old  man  would  always  reply. 

Otherwise  he  was  quite  overflowing  with  happiness,  and  his 


THE   GBEAT  STRUGGLE  261 

old  wom-out  body  manifested  its  gratitude^  for  he  began  to  put 
on  flesh  again;  and  his  cheeks  had  soon  grown  quite  full.  He 
had  a  peculiar  knack  for  looking  after  the  children;  Pelle  and 
Ellen  could  feel  quite  easy  as  they  went  about  their  multitudi- ' 
nous  affairs.  There  were  a  hundred  things  that  had  to  be  seen 
to  before  they  could  move  into  the  new  home.  They  thought  of 
raising  a  loan  of  a  few  hundred  kroner,  father  will  go 
security  for  us/'  said  Ellen. 

^es,  then  I  should  have  the  means  of  taking  proper  draw- 
ing-lessons^'' said  Pelle;  ^  particularly  need  to  get  thoraoghly 

grounded." 

•  •  •  •  • 

On  Saturday  the  term  of  the  old  tariff  expired.  The  temper 
of  the  workers  was  badly  strained,  but  each  completed  his  work, 
and  contained  himself  and  waited.  At  noon  the  foreman  w^t 
round  asking  each  man  for  his  answer.  They  refused  all  inf or- 
mation,  as  agreed,  but  in  the  afternoon  three  men  formed  a 
deputation  and  entered  the  office,  asking  if  they  could  speak 
with  the  manager.  As  he  entered  Munck,  the  engine-driver, 
stepped  forward  as  spokesman,  and  began :  ^^e  have  come  in 
the  name  of  our  comrades."  He  could  get  no  further;  the 
manager  let  fly  at  him,  pointing  to  the  stairs,  and  crying,  ^ 
dont  argue  with  my  work-people !" 

So  Ihey  went  down  again.  The  men  stared  up  at  them — 
this  was  quick  workl  The  burly  Munck  moved  his  lips,  as 
though  he  were  speaking,  but  no  one  could  hear  a  word  on 
account  of  the  frightful  din  of  the  machinery.  With  a  firm 
stride  he  went  through  the  shop,  picked  up  a  hammer,  and 
struck  three  blows  on  the  great  steel  gong.  They  sounded  like 
the  stroke  of  doom,  booming  through  the  whok  factory.  At  the 
same  moment  the  man's  naked,  blackened  arms  were  lifted  to 
strike  the  belts  from  the  live  pulleys.  The  machinery  ceased 
running,  and  the  roar  of  it  died  away;  it  was  as  still  as  though 
Death  had  passed  through  the  workshop.  The  dense  network 
of  belts  that  crossed  the  shop  in  all  directions  quivered  and  hung 
•lack;  the  silence  yawned  horribly  in  the  great  room. 

The  foremen  ran  from  bench  to  bench,  shouting  and  hardly 
knowing  what  to  do.  Word  was  sent  to  the  office,  while  the 
workers  went  to  their  buckets  and  washed  themselves,  silent  and 


262  PELLE'  THE   CONQUEEOE 

melancholy  as  a  fnneral  procession.  Their  faces  were  xmcorn- 
municatiye.  Did  they  perhaps  foresee  that  those  three  blows 
were  the  signal  for  a  terrible  conflict?  Or  were  they  merely 
following  their  first  angry  impulse?  They  knew  enough^  at  all 
events;  it  was  stamped  upon  their  faces  that  this  was  fate — 
the  inevitable.  They  had  summoned  the  winter  because  they 
were  driven  to  it,  and  the  winter  would  return  once  more  to 
ravage  his  victims. 

They  reappeared,  washed  and  clean,  each  with  his  bundle 
under  his  arm,  and  stood  in  silence  waiting  their  turn  to  be 
paid.  The  foreman  ran  to  and  fro  apportioning  the  wages  with 
nervous  hands,  comparing  time-sheets  and  reckoning  the  sum 
due  to  each.  The  manager  came  down  the  stairs  of  his  office, 
proud  and  unapproachable,  and  walked  through  the  shop;  the 
workers  made  way  for  him.  He  looked  sharply  around  1dm,  as 
though  he  would  imprint  the  likeness  of  every  individual 
worker  on  his  mind,  laid  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  one  of  the 
foremen,  and  said  in  a  loud  voice,  so  that  all  heard  him,  'Ifake 
haste,  now,  Jacobsen,  so  that  we  can  be  rid  of  these  fellows 
quickly  1^'  The  workers  slowly  turned  their  serious  faces  toward 
him,  and  here  and  there  a  fist  was  clenched.  They  left  the 
factory  one  by  one,  as  soon  as  they  were  paid. 

Outside  they  gathered  in  little  groups,  and  relieved  their 
feelings  by  giving  vent  to  significant  exclamations.  *T)id  you 
see  the  old  man  ?  He  was  savage,  he  was ;  he'll  hold  out  quite 
a  while  before  we  get  back  again  1'^ 

Pelle  was  in  a  curious  frame  of  mind;  he  knew  that  now 
the  fight  had  begun ;  fint  blood  had  been  drawn,  and  one  blow 
would  follow  on  another.  Young  Lasse,  who  heard  his  step  on 
the  stairs,  ran  into  his  arms  as  he  reached  home;  but  Pelle 
did  not  notice  him. 

'TTou  are  so  solemn  1'*  said  Ellen,  'Tias  anything  happened  ?'* 
He  told  her  quietly. 

**Good  Godl*'  she  cried,  shuddering.  'ITow  the  unemploy- 
ment will  begin  all  over  again!  Thank  (}od  it  doesn't  affect 
us !''  Pelle  did  not  reply.  He  sat  down  in  silence  to  his  sup- 
per; sat  hanging  his  head  as  though  ashamed  of  himself. 


xxvni 

A  HOST  agitating  time  followed.  For  a  nnmber  of  years  the 
conflict  had^  so  to  speak,  been  preparing  itself,  and  the  workers 
had  made  ready  for  it,  had  longed  for  it,  had  sought  to  precipi- 
tate it,  in  order  to  determine  once  for  all  whether  they  were 
destined  always  to  be  slaves  and  to  stand  still,  or  whether  there 
was  a  fature  for  them.  Now  the  conflict  had  come — and  had 
taken  them  all  by  surprise ;  they  would  willingly  have  concluded 
peace  just  now. 

But  there  was  no  prospect  of  a  peaceful  solution  of  any 
kind.  The  employers  found  the  occasion  favorable  for  setting 
their  house  in  order;  the  matter  was  to  be  fought  out  now! 
This  was  as  good  as  telling  the  men  to  go.  Every  morning 
there  was  news  of  a  fresh  lot  of  workers  turned  into  the  streets, 
or  leaving  of  their  own  accord. 

One  trade  involved  another.  The  iron-masters  made  com- 
mon cause  with  the  '^Denmark**  factory,  and  declared  a  lock-out 
of  the  machine-smiths;  then  the  motdders  and  pattern-makers 
walked  out,  and  other  branches  of  the  industry  joined  the  strike ; 
they  all  stood  by  one  another. 

Pelle  could  survey  them  all  from  his  point  of  vantage.  Old 
memories  of  battle  rose  to  his  mind ;  his  blood  grew  warm,  and 
he  caught  himself,  up  in  the  drawing-office,  making  plans  of 
campaign  for  this  trade  or  that.  His  was  the  quick-fighting 
blood  that  assumes  the  offensive,  and  he  noted  their  blunders; 
they  were  not  acting  with  sufficient  energy.  They  were  still 
exhausted,  and  f oimd  it  hard  to  reconcile  themselves  to  another 
period  of  unemployment.  They  made  no  counter-attack  that 
could  do  any  damage.  The  employers,  who  were  acting  ener- 
getically under  the  leadership  of  the  iron  industry,  enjoyed 
from  the  beginning  a  considerable  ascendancy.  The  '^nmark'' 
factory  was  kept  running,  but  the  trade  was  on  its  last  legs. 

288 


264  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

It  was  kept  alive  by  the  help  of  a  few  strike-breakers^  and  every 
one  of  the  officials  of  the  company  who  had  the  requisite  knowl- 
edge was  set  to  work  downstairs;  even  the  manager  of  the  ma- 
chine department  had  donned  a  blouse  and  was  working  a  lathe. 
It  was  a  matter  of  sapping  the  courage  of  the  strikers^  while 
proving  to  them  that  it  was  possible  to  do  without  them. 

In  the  drawing-office  and  the  counting-house  all  was  con- 
fusion; the  strike-breakers  had  all  to  be  obtained  from  abroad; 
while  others  ran  away  and  had  to  be  replaced.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances Pelle  had  to  look  after  himself  and  assimilate  what 
he  could.  This  did  not  suit  him ;  it  was  a  long  way  to  the  top, 
and  one  couldn't  learn  quickly  enough. 

One  day  he  received  the  summons  to  come  downstairs  and 
lend  a  hand  in  the  centrifugal  separator  department.  The 
workers  had  made  common  cause  with  the  machine-smiths.  This 
summons  aroused  him  from  delightful  dreams  of  the  future. 
He  was  swiftly  awakened.  ^T.  am  no  strike-breaker  V*  he  replied, 
offended. 

Then  the  engineer  himself  came  up.  ^T)o  you  realize  that 
you  are  refusing  to  perform  your  duty  ?''  he  said. 

'^  can't  take  work  away  from  my  comrades/'  replied  Pelle, 
in  a  low  voice. 

^TPhey  may  think  that  very  nice  of  you.  But  now  those  men 
down  there  are  no  longer  your  comrades.  You  are  a  salaried 
employee,  and  as  such  you  must  serve  the  firm  wherever  you 
are  asked  to  do  so.'' 

'^ut  I  can't  do  that  I  I  can't  strike  the  bread  out  of  other 
folks'  hands." 

^'Then  your  whole  future  is  at  stake.  Think  a  moment, 
man  I  I  am  sorry  for  you,  for  you  might  have  done  something 
here;  but  I  can't  save  you  from  the  results  of  your  own  ob- 
stinacy.   We  require  absolute  obedience  here." 

The  engineer  stood  waiting  for  his  answer,  but  Pelle  had 
nothing  to  say. 

'TtTow,  111  go  so  far  as  to  give  you  till  to-morrow  to  think 
over  it — although  thaf s  against  the  rules  of  the  factory.  Now 
think  it  over  well,  and  don't  hang  on  to  this  stupid  sentimen- 
tality of  yours.  The  first  thing  is  to  stand  by  those  you  belong 
to,  through  thick  and  thin.    Well,  till  to-morrow." 


THE   GREAT   STBTTGGLB  265 

Pelle  went.  He  did  not  want  to  go  home  before  the  tisual 
time,  only  to  be  met  with  a  string  of  nnseasonable  qaestions. 
They  wonld  come  soon  enough  in  any  case.  So  he  strolled 
thxoTigh  the  mercantile  quarter  and  gazed  at  the  shipping.  Well, 
now  his  dream  of  success  was  shattered — and  it  had  been  a  short 
one.  He  could  see  Ellen's  look  of  disappointment,  and  an  utter 
mental  depression  came  over  him.  He  was  chiefly  sorry  for  her ; 
as  for  him,  there  was  nothing  to  be  said — ^it  was  fate  I  It  never 
occurred  to  him  for  a  moment  to  choose  between  his  comrades 
and  the  future;  he  had  quite  forgotten  that  the  engineer  had 
given  him  time  for  reflection. 

At  the  usual  time  he  strolled  homeward.  Ellen  welcomed 
him  cheerfully  and  light-heartedly ;  she  was  living  in  a  continual 
thrill  of  delight ;  and  it  was  quite  touching  to  see  what  trouble 
she  was  taking  to  fit  herself  for  a  different  stratum  of  society. 
Her  movements  were  delightful  to  watch,  and  her  mouth  had 
assumed  an  expression  which  was  intended  to  betoken  refine- 
ment It  suited  her  delightfully,  and  Pelle  was  always  seized 
by  a  desire  to  kiss  her  lips  and  so  disarrange  the  expression; 
but  to-day  he  sat  down  to  his  supper  in  silence.  Ellen  was  ac- 
customed to  put  aside  his  share  of  the  midday  dinner,  and  to 
warm  it  up  for  him  when  he  came  home  in  the  evening;  at  mid- 
day he  ate  bread-and-butter  in  the  office. 

**When  we  have  once  got  properly  settled  well  all  have  din- 
ner at  six  o'clock ;  that  is  much  more  comfortable.^ 

^'Thafs  what  the  fine  folks  do,  IVe  been  told,^  said  Lasse. 
^That  will  be  pleasant,  to  give  it  a  try.** 

Lasse  was  sitting  with  Young  Lasse  on  his  knee,  telling  him 
funny  stories.  Little  Lasse  laughed,  and  every  time  he  laughed 
his  sister  screeched  with  delight  in  her  cradle,  as  though  she 
understood  it  alL  ''What  is  it  to  be  now,  then — ^the  story  of  the 
old  wife?  Then  you  must  listen  carefully,  or  your  ears  won't 
grow!    Well,  then,  the  old  wife." 

^'Wif e  P  said  Young  Lasse,  with  the  very  accent  of  the  old 
man. 

^es,  the  old  wife!**  repeated  Lasse^  and  then  all  three 
laughed. 

'''What  shall  I  do  first?'  said  the  old  wife,  when  she  went 
to  work;  'eat  or  sleep?    I  think  111  eat  first    What  shall  I  do 


266  PBLLB   THE   CONQUEEOB 

first?'  asked  the  old  wife,  when  she  had  eaten;  'shall  I  sleep 
first  or  work?  J  think  111  sleep  first'  And  then  she  slept, 
until  it  was  evening,  and  then  she  went  home  and  went  to  bed/' 

Ellen  went  up  to  Pelle  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

'^'ve  been  to  see  my  former  mistress,  and  she  is  going  to 
help  me  to  turn  my  wedding-dress  into  a  visiting-dress,"  she 
said.    'Then  we  shall  only  need  to  buy  a  frock-coat  for  you." 

Pelle  looked  up  slowly.  A  quiver  passed  over  his  features. 
Poor  thing!  She  was  thinking  about  visiting-dresses  I  'HTou 
oan  save  yourself  the  trouble,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice.  ''I've 
finished  with  the  office.  They  asked  me  to  turn  strike-breaker, 
so  I  left." 

"Ach,  achi"  said  Lasse,  and  he  was  near  letting  the  child 
fall,  his  withered  hands  were  trembling  so.  Ellen  gazed  at  Pelle 
as  though  turned  to  stone.  She  grew  paler  and  paler,  but  not 
a  sound  came  from  her  lips.  She  looked  as  though  she  would 
fall  dead  at  his  feet. 


XXIX 

Fbllb  was  once  more  among  his  own  people;  he  did  not  re- 
gret that  fortune  had  withdrawn  her  promise;  at  heart  he  was 
glad.  After  all^  this  was  where  he  belonged.  He  had  played  a 
great  part  in  the  great  revolt — ^was  he  to  be  excluded  from  the 
battle? 

The  leaders  welcomed  him.  No  one  could  draw  the  people 
as  he  could^  when  it  came  to  that;  the  sight  of  him  inspired  them 
with  a  cheerful  f aith^  and  gave  them  endurance^  and  a  fearless 
pugnacity.    And  he  was  so  skilled^  too^  in  making  plans ! 

The  first  thing  every  morning  he  made  his  way  to  the  lock- 
out office^  whence  the  whole  campaign  was  directed ;  here  all  the 
many  threads  ran  together.  The  situation  for  the  moment  was 
considered^  men  who  had  precise  knowledge  of  the  enemy's  weak 
points  were  called  together,  in  order  to  give  information,  and  a 
comprehensive  plan  of  campaign  was  devised.  At  secret  meet- 
ings, to  which  trustworthy  members  of  the  various  trades  were 
invited,  all  sorts  of  material  for  offence  was  collected — for  the 
attack  upon  the  employers,  and  for  carrying  on  the  newspaper 
agitation.  It  was  a  question  of  striking  at  the  blood-suckers, 
and  those  who  were  loose  in  the  saddle!  There  were  trades 
which  the  employers  kept  going  for  local  reasons — ^these  must 
be  hunted  out  and  brought  to  a  standstill,  even  at  the  cost  of 
increasing  unemployment.  They  were  making  energetic  prep- 
arations for  war,  and  it  was  not  the  time  to  be  squeamish  about 
their  weapons.  Pelle  was  in  his  element.  This  was  something 
better  than  ruining  a  single  shoemaker,  even  if  he  was  the  big- 
gest in  the  city  I  He  was  rich  in  ideas,  and  never  wavered  in 
carrying  them  into  execution.    Warfare  was  warfare ! 

This  was  the  attacking  side ;  but,  permeated  as  he  was  by  a 
sense  of  community,  he  saw  clearly  that  the  real  battle  was  for 

267 


268  PELLE  THE   CONQUEEOE 

maintenance.  The  utmost  foresight  and  widely  oomprehensiye 
instructions  were  required  if  the  masses  were  to  last  out  the 
campaign;  in  the  long  run  it  would  be  a  question  of  endurance  I 
Foreign  strike-breakers  had  to  be  kept  at  a  distance  by  prompt 
communications  to  the  party  newspapers  of  the  different  coun- 
tries^ and  by  the  setting  of  pickets  in  the  railway  stations  and 
on  the  steamers.  For  the  first  time  the  workers  took  the  tele- 
graph into  their  own  service.  The  number  of  the  foreign  strike- 
breakers must  by  every  possible  means  be  kept  down^  and  in  the 
first  place  supplies  must  be  assured^  so  that  the  imemployed 
masses  could  keep  famine  at  bay. 

In  a  vision^  Pelle  had  beheld  the  natural  solidarity  of  the 
workers  extended  over  the  whole  earth,  and  now  this  vision  was 
of  service  to  him.  The  leaders  issued  a  powerful  manifesto  to 
the  workers  of  Denmark;  pointing  to  the  abyss  from  which  they 
had  climbed  and  to  the!  pinnacles  of  light  toward  which  they 
were  striving  upward;  and  warning  them,  in  impressive  phrases, 
to  stand  firm  and  to  hold  together.  A  statment  as  to  the 
origin  of  the  lock-out  and  the  intention  which  lay  behind  it  was 
printed  and  distributed  throughout  the  country,  with  appeal  for 
assistance  and  support,  in  the  name  of  freedom !  And  by  means 
of  appeals  to  the  labor  parties  of  foreign  countries  they  reminded 
the  people  of  the  vast  solidarity  of  labor.  It  was  a  huge  ma- 
chine to  set  in  motion ;  federation  had  increased  from  one  small 
trade  union  until  it  comprehended  the  whole  kingdom,  and  now 
they  were  striving  to  comprehend  the  laboring  populations  of 
the  whole  world,  in  order  to  win  them  over  as  coirCederates  in 
the  campaign.  And  men  who  had  risen  from  the  masses  and 
were  still  sharing  the  same  conditions,  were  managing  all  this  I 
They  had  kept  step  with  the  rapid  growth  of  the  movement,  and 
they  were  still  growing. 

The  feeling  that  they  were  well  prepared  inspired  them  with 
courage  and  the  prospect  of  a  favorable  result  From  the 
country  offers  of  employment  for  the  locked-out  workers  daily 
reached  the  central  office.  Money  was  sent  too — and  assistance 
in  the  form  of  provisions;  and  many  families  outside  the  capital 
offered  to  take  in  the  children  of  imemployed  parents.  Bemit- 
tances  of  money  came  from  abroad,  and  the  liberal  circles  of  the 
capital  sympathized  with  the  workers ;  and  in  the  workers'  quar- 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  2«9 

ter  of  the  city  shopkeepers  and  publicans  began  to  collect  for 
the  Federation. 

The  workers  displayed  an  extraordinary  readiness  to  undergo 
sacrifices.  Books  of  coupons  were  circulated  everywhere  in  the 
workshops^  and  thousands  of  workers  gave  each  week  a  fourth 
part  of  their  modest  wages.  The  locked-out  workers  left  their 
work  with  magnificent  courage;  the  sense  of  community  made 
them  heroic.  Destitute  though  they  were  as  a  result  of  the 
hard  winter,  they  agreed,  during  the  first  two  weeks,  to  do  with- 
out assistance.  Many  of  them  spared  'the  treasury  altogether, 
helping  themselves  as  well  as  they  could,  seeking  a  little  private 
employment,  or  going  out  into  the  coxmtry  to  work  on  the  land. 
The  young  xmmarried  men  went  abroad. 

The  employers  did  what  they  could  to  cope  with  all  these 
shifts.  They  forbade  the  merchants  and  contractors  to  supply 
those  who  worked  at  home  on  their  own  account  with  materiaU 
for  their  work;  and  secret  agents  were  despatched  all  over  the 
ooimtry  to  the  small  employers  and  the  farmers,  in  order  to 
prejudice  them  against  the  locked-out  workers;  and  the  frontier 
of  the  country  was  covered  with  placards. 

Their  intention  was  obvious  enough — an  iron  ring  was  to  be 
drawn  round  the  workers,  and  once  imprisoned  therein  they 
could  do  nothing  but  keep  starvation  at  bay  until  they  had  had 
enough,  and  surrendered.  This  knowledge  increased  their  re- 
sistance. They  were  lean  with  wandering  through  the  wilder- 
ness, but  they  were  just  in  the  mood  for  a  fight  Many  of  them 
had  not  until  now  understood  the  entire  bearings  of  the  cam- 
paign; the  new  ideas  had  been  stirring  within  them,  but  in  a 
fragmentary  and  isolated  condition — as  an  expression  of  a  dumb 
feeling  that  the  promised  land  was  at  hand  at  last.  Often  it  was 
just  one  single  word  that  had  fixed  itself  in  their  minds,  and  had 
to  serve  to  express  the  whole  position.  Any  one  might  approach 
them  with  plausible  arguments  and  strike  it  from  xmder  them, 
and  shatter  the  theory  to  which  they  had  clung ;  but  faith  itself , 
remained,  and  the  far-reaching  concord;  deep  in  their  hearts 
was  the  dim,  immovable  knowledge  that  they  were  chosen  to 
enter  into  the  time  of  promise. 

And  now  everything  was  gradually  becoming  plain  to  them. 
The  battle  shed  light  both  backward  and  forward.    It  illumined 


270  PELLE   THE    CONQUEEOE 

their  existence  in  all  its  harshness.  Life  was  the  same  as  it  had 
always  been^  but  now  it  was  revealed  so  plainly  that  all  could 
see  it.  All  the  many  whips  and  scorns  of  life  had  been  bound 
together  in  one  vast  scourge — ^the  scourge  of  famine — ^which  was 
to  drive  them  back  into  the  midst  of  poverty !  Want  was  to  be 
set  upon  them  in  its  compactest  form !  This  was  the  last,  most 
extreme  weapon;  it  confirmed  them  in  the  certainty  that  they 
were  now  on  the  right  track,  and  near  the  goal.  The  night  was 
always  darkest  before  the  break  of  day  I 

There  were  all  sorts  of  things  that  they  could  understand 
now.  People  used  to  go  about  saying  that  the  Germans  were 
the  hereditary  enemy,  and  that  the  Fatherland  was  taking  the 
lead  of  all  oUier  countries.  But  now  the  employers  were  send- 
ing to  Germany  for  troops  of  hirelings,  and  were  employing 
them  to  drive  their  own  countrymen  into  a  state  of  poverty.  All 
that  talk  about  patriotic  feeling  had  been  only  fine  words! 
There  were  only  two  nations — ^the  oppressors  and  the  oppressed  I 

That  was  how  things  appeared  on  closer  inspection!  One 
could  never  be  very  sure  of  what  those  above  one  told  one — and 
yet  all  teaching  came  from  them !  A  brave  lot  the  clergy  were 
— ^they  knew  very  well  which  master  they  had  to  serve!  No, 
the  people  ought  to  have  had  their  own  schools,  where  the  chil- 
dren would  learn  the  new  ideas  instead  of  religion  and  pa- 
triotism !  Then  there  would  long  ago  have  been  an  end  of  the 
curse  of  poverty !  So  they  profited  by  the  campaign  and  their 
compulsory  idleness  in  order  to  think  things  over,  and  to  en- 
deavor to  solve  all  manner  of  problems. 

The  specter  of  himger  presently  began  to  go  from  house  to 
house,  but  the  result  was  not  what  was  expected;  it  awakened 
only  hatred  and  defiance.  It  was  precisely  in  this  direction  that 
they  were  invincible  1  In  the  course  of  tim6  they  had  learned 
to  suffer — ^they  had  learned  nothing  more  thorou^y;  and  this 
came  to  their  help  now.  They  had  an  inexhaustible  fund  to 
.draw  upon,  from  which  they  could  derive  their  strength  to  re- 
sist; they  were  not  to  be  defeated.  Weren't  they  nearly  ready 
to  surrender?  Very  well — another  thousand  workers  on  the 
streets !  But  the  distress,  to  all  appearance,  became  no  greater 
than  before;  they  had  learned  to  endure  their  privations  in 
decency — ^that  was  their  share  in  the  increasing  culture.    One 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  271 

saw  no  obtrubive  signs  of  want;  they  compromised  with  it  in 
secret,  and  appeared  full  of  courage.  This  weakened  the  faith 
of  their  opponents  in  the  infallible  nature  of  their  means. 

They  even  adopted  hunger  as  their  own  weapon,  boycotting 
the  employers  and  their  dependents,  striking  the  enemy  a  blow 
they  were  familiar  with!  Many  a  great  employer's  door  was 
marked  with  a  cross,  and  all  behind  it  were  doomed  to  ruin. 

It  was  as  though  the  courage  of  the  people  increased  in 
proportion  as  famine  threatened  them  more  closely.  No  one 
co^ld  tell  how  long  this  would  last;  but  they  would  make  hay 
as  long  as  the  sun  shone !  Their  clothes  were  still  tidy,  and  in 
the  early  spring  there  were  many  excursions;  the  people  went 
forth  singing,  with  banners  at  their  head,  and  singing  they 
came  home. 

This  was  the  first  time  they  had  ever  enjoyed  their  f reedom, 
although  there  was  work  enough  to  be  done — ^it  was  their  first 
holiday  I  As  they  held  the  whip  hand  through  their  purchasing 
capacity,  they  boycotted  all  the  business  concerns  of  their  own 
garter  which  did  not  array  themselves  on  the  side  of  the  work- 
ers. Their  hatred  was  aroused;  it  was  '^or  us  or  against  us^; 
all  must  declare  themselves  by  taking  sides.  The  small  shop- 
keepers concealed  their  convictions — ^if  they  had  any — and 
rivalled  one  another  in  friendliness  toward  the  workers.  On 
their  coimters  lay  books  of  coupons  for  those  who  would  con- 
tribute to  the  funds,  and  some  of  them  gave  a  percentage  of 
their  own  takings.  There  was  plenty  of  time  to  keep  a  strict 
eye  on  such ;  the  people's  hatred  was  aroused  at  last,  and  it  grew 
more  and  more  bitter. 

The  leaders  held  back  and  counselled  prudence.  But  there 
was  something  intoxicating  in  this  battle  for  bare  life — and  for 
happiness !  Something  that  went  to  the  head  and  tempted  them 
to  hazard  all  on  the  cast  of  the  dice.  The  leaders  had  given 
great  attention  to  the  problem  of  restricting  the  number  of  idle 
hands — ^it  was  difficult  for  them  to  procure  sufficient  funds.  But 
those  workers  who  still  had  work  to  do  forsook  it,  in  order  to 
join  themselves,  in  blind  solidarity,  to  their  locked-out  com- 
rades.   They  thought  it  was  required  of  them  I 

One  day  the  masons  made  an  unexpected  demand  that  an 
hour  should  be  struck  off  the  day's  work.     They  received  a 


272  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

refiuaL  But  that  evening  they  knocked  off  at  six  instead  of 
seven.  The  men  were  nnreasonable :  to  demand  shorter  hours  in 
ihe  slack  season  following  on  a  hard  winter ! 

This  move  took  the  leaders  by  surprise.  They  feared  that  it 
might  diminish  the  general  sympathy  for  the  workers.  It  sur- 
prised them  particularly  that  the  prudent  and  experienced  Stolpe 
had  not  opposed  this  demand.  As  president  of  the  organiza- 
tion for  many  years^  he  had  great  influence  over  the  men;  he 
must  try  to  persuade  them  to  go  to  work  again.  Pelle  opened 
n^otiations  with  him. 

'*That  is  not  my  business,**  Stolpe  replied.  "I  did  not 
propose  the  cessation  of  work,  but  at  the  general  meeting  the 
majority  was  in  favor  of  it — and  with  that  there's  no  more  to 
be  said.    I  don't  oppose  my  comrades.*' 

**But  that* s  perverse  of  you/*  said  Pelle.  ^TTou  are  the  re- 
sponsible person,  and  your  trade  has  the  most  favorable  condi- 
tions of  labor — and  you  ought  to  remember  the  conflict  in  which 
we  are  engaged.** 

^es,  the  conflict!  Of  course  we  thought  of  it.  And  you 
are  right,  I  have  a  good  and  comfortable  home,  because  my  craft 
is  in  a  good  position;  and  we  masons  have  obtained  good  con- 
ditions, and  we  earn  good  money.  But  are  we  to  enjoy  our- 
selves and  look  on  while  the  others  are  fighting  for  dry  bread? 
No,  we  are  with  them  when  it  comes  to  a  fight  !** 

^ut  the  support  you  were  giving — it  was  ten  thousand 
kroner  a  week,  and  now  we  shall  have  to  do  without  it!  Your 
action  may  have  incalculable  consequences  for  us.  You  must 
put  an  end  to  this,  father-in-law !  You  must  see  that  the  ma- 
jority doesn't  have  its  way.*' 

''That  would  be  diplomatic,  wouldn't  it?  But  you  seem 
anxious  to  side  with  our  opponents!  We  hold  the  suffrage  in 
honor,  and  it  is  the  suffrage  that  is  to  reform  society.  If  once 
one  begins  to  meddle  with  the  voting-papers ! ^** 

''But  that  isn't  necessary  in  the  least!  The  people  aren't 
really  dear  as  to  what  they  are  doing — ^yon  can't  expect  any 
quickness  of  perception  from  them !  You  could  demand  a  fresh 
vote — ^if  I  could  first  have  a  talk  with  them  about  the  cam- 
paign!" 

"So  you  think  we  couldn't  see  what  we  were  doing !"  replied 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  278 

Stolpe^  much  offended,  ^^ut  we  can  accept  the  consequences — 
we  can  do  that !  And  you  want  to  get  up  on  the  platform  and 
talk  them  silly,  and  then  they  are  to  vote  the  other  way  round  I 
No,  no  nonsense  here!  They  voted  according  to  their  convio- 
tions — and  with  that  the  matter's  settled,  whether  it's  right  or 
wrong  1    It  won't  be  altered  l** 

Pelle  had  to  give  in ;  the  old  man  was  not  to  be  moved  from 
his  point  of  view.  The  masons  increased  the  unemployed  by  a 
few  thousand  men. 

The  employers  profited  by  this  aggression,  which  represented 
them  to  the  public  in  a  favorable  aspect,  in  order  to  strike  a 
decisive  blow.    The  universal  lock-out  was  declared. 


At  home  matters  were  going  badly  with  Pelle.  They  had 
not  yet  recovered  from  the  winter  when  he  was  drawn  into  the 
conflict;  and  the  preparations  for  his  new  position  had  plunged 
them  into  debt.  Pelle  received  the  same  relief  as  the  other 
locked-out  workers — rten  to  twelve  kroner  a  week — and  out  of 
this  Ellen  had  to  provide  them  with  food  and  firing.  She 
thought  he  ought,  as  leader^  to  receive  more  than  the  others^  but 
Pelle  did  not  widi  to  enjoy  other  conditions  than  those  allotted 
to  the  rest. 

When  he  came  home,  thoroughly  exhausted  after  his  strenu- 
CQB  day,  he  was  met  by  Ellen's  questioning  eyes.  She  said  noth- 
ing, but  her  eyes  obstinately  repeated  the  same  question  day 
after  day.  It  was  as  though  they  asked  him :  '^ell,  have  you 
found  employment?*'  This  irritated  him,  for  she  knew  per- 
fectly well  that  he  was  not  looking  for  work,  that  there  was  none 
to  look  for.  She  knew  what  the  situation  was  as  well  as  he  did, 
but  she  persistently  behaved  as  though  she  knew  nothing  of  all 
that  he  and  his  comrades  were  endeavoring  to  achieve,  and  when 
he  turned  the  conversation  on  to  that  subject  she  preserved  a 
stubborn  silence;  she  did  not  wish  to  hear  anything  about  it 

When  the  heat  of  battle  rose  to  Pelle's  head,  there  was  no 
one  with  whom  he  would  rather  have  shared  his  opinions  and  his 
plans  of  campaign.  In  other  directions  she  had  urged  him  on, 
and  he  had  felt  this  as  a  confirmation  and  augmentation  of  his 
own  being;  but  now  she  was  silent.  She  had  him  and  her  home 
and  the  children,  and  all  else  besides  was  nothing  to  her.  She 
had  shared  the  privations  of  the  winter  with  him  and  had  done 
so  cheerfully ;  they  were  undeserved.  But  now  he  could  get  work 
whenever  he  wished.  She  had  resumed  her  dumb  opposition, 
and  this  had  an  oppressive  effect  upon  him;  it  took  something 
from  the  joy  of  battle. 

274 


THE    GEEAT   STEUGGLE  275 

When  he  reached  home  and  related  what  had  been  said  and 
done  during  the  day,  he  addressed  himself  to  Lasse.  She  moved 
about  the  home  immersed  in  her  own  cares,  as  though  she  were 
dumb;  and  she  would  suddenly  interrupt  his  conversation  with 
the  statement  that  this  or  that  was  lacking.  So  he  weaned  him- 
self from  his  communicative  habits,  and  carried  on  all  his  work 
away  from  home.  If  there  was  writing  to  be  done,  or  if  he  had 
negotiations  to  accomplish,  he  selected  some  tavern  where  he 
would  be  free  of  her  constraining  presence.  He  avoided  telling 
her  of  his  post  of  confidence,  and  although  she  could  not  help 
hearing  about  it  when  away  from  home  she  behaved  as  if  she 
knew  nothing.  For  her  he  was  still  merely  Pelle  the  working- 
man,  who  shirked  supporting  his  wife  and  children.  This 
obstinate  attitude  pained  him;  and  the  bitterness  of  his  home 
life  made  him  throw  himself  with  greater  energy  into  the  strug- 
gle.   He  became  a  hard  and  dangerous  opponent. 

Lasse  used  to  gaze  at  them  unhappily.  He  would  willingly 
have  intervened,  but  he  did  not  know  how  to  set  about  it;  and  he 
felt  himself  superfluous.  Every  day  he  donned  his  old  clothes 
and  went  out  in  order  to  offer  his  services  as  casual  laborer,  but 
there  were  plenty  of  idle  hands  yoxmger  than  his.  And  he  was 
afraid  of  obtaining  employment  that  might  take,  the  bread  out 
of  other  folks'  mouths.  He  could  not  xmderstand  the  campaign, 
and  he  foxmd  it  difficult  to  understand  what  was  forbidden 
groxmd ;  but  for  Pelle  he  felt  an  unconditional  respect.  If  the 
lad  said  this  or  the  other,  then  it  was  right;  even  if  one  had  to 
go  hungry  for  it — ^the  lad  was  appointed  to  some  special  end. 

One  day  he  silently  left  the  house ;  Pelle  scarcely  noticed  it, 
so  absorbed  was  he.  '^He  must  have  gone  back  to  the  old 
clothes  woman  at  the  'Ark,*''  he  thought;  ''ifs  by  no  means 
amusing  here.'* 

Pelle  had  charge  of  the  external  part  of  the  campaign;  he 
knew  nothing  of  bookkeeping  or  administration,  but  simply 
threw  himself  into  the  fight  Even  as  a  child  of  eight  he  had 
been  faced  with  the  problem  of  mastering  life  by  his  own  means, 
and  he  had  accomplished  it,  and  this  he  profited  by  now.  He 
enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  masses;  his  speech  sounded  nat- 
ural to  them,  so  that  they  believed  in  him  even  when  they  did 
not  understand  him.    If  there  was  an;  one  who  did  not  wish 


276  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

to  follow  where  Pelle  led^  he  had  to  go  just  the  same;  there  was 
no  time  just  now  for  lengthy  argument;  where  civil  words  didnt 
answer  he  took  more  energetic  means. 

The  campaign  consisted  in  the  first  place  of  the  federation 
of  the  masses^  and  Pelle  was  continu^Jly  away  from  home; 
wherever  anything  was  afoot^  there  he  put  in  an  appearance. 
He  had  inaugurated  a  huge  parade,  every  morning  all  the  locked- 
out  workers  reported  themselves  at  various  stations  in  the  city, 
and  there  the  roll  was  called,  every  worker  being  entered  accord- 
ing to  his  Union.  By  means  of  this  vast  daily  roll-call  of  nearly 
forty  thousand  men  it  was  possible  to  discover  which  of  them 
had  deserted  in  order  to  act  as  strike-breakers.  A  few  were 
always  absent,  and  those  who  had  a  good  excuse  had  to  establish 
it  in  order  to  draw  their  strike-pay.  Pelle  was  now  here,  now 
there,  and  always  unexpected,  acting  on  impulse  as  he  did. 
*Tjightning  Pelle,''  they  called  him,  on  accoimt  of  the  sudden- 
ness of  his  movements.  His  actions  were  not  based  upon  long 
deliberations;  nevertheless,  he  had  a  radical  comprehension  of 
the  entire  movement ;  one  thing  grew  out  of  another,  naturally, 
until  the  whole  was  more  than  any  conscious  intelligence  could 
comprehend.  And  Pelle  grew  with  it,  and  by  virtue  of  his  im- 
ptdsiveness  was  a  summary  of  it  all. 

There  was  plenty  to  be  done;  at  the  roll-call  all  those  who 
failed  to  attend  had  to  be  entered,  and  those  who  knew  any- 
thing about  them  must  give  information.  This  man  had  gone 
abroad;  that  one  had  gone  into  the  country,  to  look  for  work; 
so  far,  so  good.  If  any  fell  away  and  acted  as  strike-breaker, 
instructions  were  immediately  given  for  his  punishment.  In 
this  way  Pelle  kept  the  ranks  closed.  There  were  many  weak 
elements  among  them — degenerate,  ignorant  fellows  who  didn't 
understand  the  importance  of  the  movement,  but  a  strong  con- 
trolling hand  and  unfailing  justice  made  it  a  serious  matter  for 
them  to  break  away. 

At  the  outset  he  had  organized  with  Stolpe's  assistance  a 
large  body  of  the  best  workers  as  pickets  or  watchmen.  These 
were  zealous,  fanatical  members  of  the  various  trades,  who  had 
taken  part  in  the  organization  of  their  own  professional  organ- 
ization, and  knew  every  individual  member  thereof.  They  sta- 
tioned themselves  early  in  the  morning  in  the  neighborhood  of 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  277 

the  various  places  of  employment,  marking  those  who  went  to 
work  there  and  doing  their  best  to  prevent  them.  They  were 
in  constant  conflict  with  the  police,  who  put  every  possible  ob- 
stacle in  their  way. 

Morten  he  met  repeatedly.  Privation  had  called  him  out  of 
his  retirement.  He  did  not  believe  that  the  campaign  would 
lead  to  better  conditions,  and  on  that  account  he  took  no  part 
in  ii  But  want  he  knew  as  did  no  other;  his  insight  in  that 
direction  was  mysteriously  keen.  The  dislribution  of  relief  in 
the  form  of  provisions  could  not  have  been  entrusted  to  better 
hands.  He  superintended  the  whole  business  of  distribution, 
but  what  he  liked  best  was  to  stand,  knife  in  hand,  cutting  up 
pork  for  the  families  of  locked-out  workers.  The  portions  were 
strictly  weighed;  none  the  less,  the  women  always  thronged 
about  him.  There  was  a  blessing  in  that  faint  smile  of  his — 
they  felt  sure  his  portions  were  the  biggest  I 

Morten  and  Pelle  were  in  disagreement  on  almost  every 
point.  Even  now,  when  everything  depended  on  a  strict  cohe- 
sion, Morten  could  never  be  trusted  to  behave  with  severity. 
^TRemember,  they  aren't  of  age  yet,**  he  would  say  continually. 
And  it  could  not  be  gainsaid  that  there  were  many  to  whom  the 
conflict  was  unintelligible — ^they  understood  nothing  of  it,  al- 
though otherwise  they  were  thoughtful  and  intelligent  enough. 
These  were  mostly  people  who  had  come  in  from  the  provinces  at 
a  somewhat  advanced  age;  indeed  some  had  been  small  em- 
ployers there.  For  them  Irades  unionism  was  a  sort  of  lynch 
law,  and  they  profited  by  the  strike  in  all  simplicity  in  order  to 
obtain  well-paid  employment.  When  they  were  reviled  as  strike- 
breakers or  "gentlemen,'*  they  laughed  like  little  children  who 
are  threatened  with  a  revolver.  Slow-witted  as  they  were,  in 
this  respect,  they  took  the  consequences  to  heart,  although  they 
could  not  see  the  reason  for  them.  These  must  be  compelled 
to  obey. 

The  iron  industry  was  doing  its  utmost  to  keep  going,  as  a 
trade  which  muA  fulfill  its  contracted  engagements,  under  pen- 
alty of  seeing  the  business  fall  into  foreign  hands.  This  in- 
dustry had  if  possible  to  be  disabled.  The  pickets  were  at  work, 
and  The  Working  Man  published  the  names  and  addresses  of 
the  strike-breakers.    When  these  left  the  factory  they  encoun- 


278  PELLE   THE    CONQUEBOE 

tered  a  crowd  of  people  who  treated  them  with  scorn  and  con- 
tempt; they  had  to  be  escorted  by  the  police.  But  tiie  resent- 
ment aroused  by  their  treachery  followed  them  home  even  to  the 
barracks  they  lived  in.  The  wives  and  children  of  the  locked- 
out  workers  resumed  the  battle  and  carried  on  hostilities  against 
the  families  of  the  strike-breakers,  so  that  they  had  to  move. 
One  saw  them  of  a  night,  with  all  their  possessions  on  a  hand- 
cart, trudging  away  to  seek  a  new  home  under  cover  of  the 
darkness.  But  the  day  revealed  them,  and  again  they  were 
fugitives,  xmtil  the  police  took  them  in  hand  and  found  lodging 
for  them. 

One  day  a  large  factory  by  tiie  North  Bridge  resumed  oper- 
ations with  the  help  of  foreign  labor  and  strike-breakers.  Pelle 
set  to  work  to  prepare  a  warm  reception  for  tiie  workers  when 
they  went  homeward,  but  in  tiie  course  of  the  day  a  policeman 
who  was  friendly  to  the  workers  tipped  him  tiie  wink  that  two 
hxmdred  police  would  be  concealed  in  a  neighboring  school, 
ready  for  the  workers'  departure. 

In  the  afternoon  people  began  to  collect — ^unemployed  work- 
ers, poor  women,  and  children.  They  came  early,  for  it  well 
might  be  that  the  workers  would  be  released  an  hour  before 
their  time,  in  order  to  avoid  a  clash,  and  they  were  missing 
nothing  by  waiting  there.  Finally  several  thousand  people  stood 
before  the  gates  of  the  factory,  and  the  police  were  moving  to 
and  fro  through  the  crowd,  which  stood  many  men  deep,  but 
they  had  to  give  up  the  effort  to  drive  them  asunder.  The 
street  urchins  began  to  make  an  uproar,  and  to  egg  the 
watchers  on.  They  felt  the  need  of  warming  tiiemselves  a  little, 
so  they  gradually  began  to  bait  the  police. 

''Hullo,  there !''  suddenly  shouted  a  mighty  voice.  'In  the 
school  over  there  are  two  himdred  police,  waiting  for  us  to  make 
a  disturbance,  so  that  they  can  come  and  use  their  truncheons 
on  us.  Hadn't  we  better  leave  them  where  they  are  ?  I  think 
if  s  quite  as  well  they  should  go  back  to  school  for  a  time  P' 

'hurrah !"  they  cried.  "Hurrah !  Long  live  Idghtning*  !** 
A  movement  went  through  the  crowd.  "Thafs  Pelle  1*'  The 
whisper  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  the  women  stood  on 
tiptoe  to  see  him. 

Pelle  and  Stolpe  were  standing  against  a  wall,  surrounded 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  279 

by  a  few  dozen  pickets.  The  police  went  up  to  them  and  repri- 
manded them.  They  had  orders  to  hinder  the  picketing^  but 
they  had  no  desire  to  meddle  with  Pelle.  They  lived  in  the 
workers'  quarter,  were  at  home  there,  and  a  word  from  him 
would  make  the  city  impossible  for  them. 

The  usual  time  for  stopping  work  came  round,  but  the  work- 
ers were  not  released  from  the  factory.  The  crowd  used  its  wits 
to  keep  itself  warm ;  punning  remarks  concerning  strike-breakers 
and  capitalists  buzzed  through  the  air.  But  suddenly  an  alarm 
ran  through  flie  crowd.  The  street  urchins,  who  are  always  the 
first  to  know  everything,  were  whistling  between  their  fingers 
and  running  down  the  side  streets.  Then  the  crowd  began  to 
move,  and  the  police  followed  at  a  quick  march,  keeping  to  the 
middle  of  the  street.  The  factory  had  discharged  the  workers 
by  a  back  door.  They  were  moving  down  Guldberg  Street  by 
now,  disheartened  and  with  never  a  glance  behind  them,  while 
a  whole  escort  of  police  accompanied  them.  They  were  soon 
overtaken  and  brought  home  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  sinister 
concert,  which  now  and  again  was  interrupted  by  cries  of,  'TlTiree 
cheers  for  the  gentlemen  1'* 

The  pickets  walked  in  a  long  file,  close  to  the  procession, 
zealously  occupied  in  noting  each  individual  worker,  while  Pelle 
moved  in  the  mMst  of  the  crowd,  endeavoring  to  prevent  over- 
hasty  action.  There  was  need  to  be  careful.  Several  men  were 
still  in  prison  because  during  the  winter  they  had  come  to  blows 
with  the  strike-breakers,  and  the  police  had  received  stringent 
orders  from  the  authorities.  The  press  of  the  propertied  classes 
was  daily  calling  for  stricter  measures,  demanding  that  every 
meeting  in  the  streets,  and  especially  before  the  gates  of  a  fac- 
tory, should  be  broken  up  by  the  police. 

ITow  and  then  a  strike-breaker  parted  from  the  squad 
and  ran  into  the  door  of  his  dwelling,  followed  by  a  long 
whistle.  ^ 

Among  the  workers  was  a  solitary,  elderly  man,  still  power- 
ful, whom  Pelle  recognized.  He  kept  at  the  extreme  edge  of 
the  police,  walking  heavily,  with  bowed  head,  along  the  pave- 
ment close  to  the  houses.  His  hair  was  quite  gray,  and  his  gait 
was  almost  crippled.  This  was  Mason  Hansen,  Stolpe's  old  com- 
rade and  fellow-unionist,  whom  Pelle  had  interviewed  in  the 


280  PELLE  THE   CONQUEROR 

winter,  in  the  hope  of  persuading  him  to  refrain  from  strike- 
breaking. 

*1fs  going  badly  with  him/'  thought  Pelle,  involuntarily 
keeping  his  eyes  on  him.  The  results  of  strike-breaking  had 
dealt  hardly  with  hinu 

By  St.  Hans  Street  he  turned  the  comer,  winking  at  the 
policeman  who  was  about  to  follow  him,  and  went  down  the 
street  alone,  looking  neither  to  right  nor  left,  embarrassed,  and 
with  hanging  head.  Every  time  a  child  cried  aloud,  he  started. 
Then  he  stood  as  though  riveted  to  the  ground,  for  in  front  of 
his  door  a  heap  of  poverty-stricken  household  goods  lay  in  the 
gutter.  A  crowd  of  gaping  children  stood  round  the  heap,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  group  stood  a  youngish  woman,  with  four 
children,  who  were  keeping  tearful  watch  over  the  heap  of  trash. 
The  man  pressed  through  the  crowd  and  exchanged  a  few  words 
witii  the  woman,  then  clenched  his  fists  and  shook  tiiem  threat- 
eningly at  the  tcoiement  house. 

Pelle  went  up  to  him.  'TDhings  aren't  going  well  with  you, 
comrade,''  he  said,  laying  his  hand  on  the  other's  shoxdder. 
"And  you  are  much  too  good  for  what  you  are  doing.  You  had 
better  come  with  me  and  reenter  the  organization." 

The  man  slowly  turned  his  head.  '*0h,  it's  you!"  he  said, 
shaking  Pelle's  hand  away  with  a  jerk.  ''And  you  seem  as  cool 
and  impudent  as  ever.  Poverty  hasn't  dealt  hardly  with  yout 
If s  not  at  all  a  bad  business,  growing  fat  on  tiie  pence  of  the 
workers,  eh?" 

Pelle  grew  crimson  with  anger,  but  he  controlled  himself. 
^TTour  insxdts  don't  hurt  me,"  he  said.  'TE  have  gone  hungry 
for  the  Cause  while  you  have  been  playing  the  turncoat.  But 
that  will  be  forgotten  if  ^oull  come  with  me." 

The  man  laughed  bitterly,  pointing  at  the  tenement-house. 
'Tou'd  better  go  and  give  tiiem  a  medal.  Three  months  now 
they've  tormented  me  and  made  hell  hot  for  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren, in  order  to  drive  us  away.  And  as  that  didn't  answer, 
they  went  to  the  landlord  and  forced  him  to  give  me  notice. 
But  Hansen  is  obstinate — ^he  woxddn't  be  shown  the  door.  So 
now  they've  got  the  bailiffs  to  turn  me  out,  see?"  He  gave  a 
hollow  laugh.  ''But  these  few  sticks,  why,  we  can  soon  carry 
them  up  again,  damn  it  all !    Shall  we  begin,  mother?" 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  281 

^11  willingly  speak  to  the  landlord.  Bemember,  you  are 
an  old  nnionisf 

''An  did — ^yes,  I  was  in  it  from  the  very  beginning/'  The 
man  drew  himself  proudly  erect.  ''But  for  all  that  I  don't  let 
my  wife  and  children  starve.  So  you  want  to  go  begging  fa- 
vors for  me,  eh?  You  be  gone — at  once,  will  you?  Be  off,  to 
the  devil,  or  ITl  beat  you  to  a  jelly  witii  this  !*'  He  seized  a 
table-leg;  his  eyes  were  quite  blood-shot.  His  young  wife  went 
up  to  him  and  took  his  hand.  "Hansen  V'  she  said  quietly.  He 
let  his  weapon  f alL  Pelle  felt  the  woman's  pleading  eyes  upon 
him,  and  went 


'.'  ' 


Whin  Pelle,  tired  to  deaths  made  his  way  homeward  in  the 
evenings  he  had  lost  tiie  feeling  of  invincibility  and  his  thoughts 
tamed  to  Ellen. 

In  the  daytime  he  felt  neither  hesitation  nor  certainty. 
When  he  set  to  work  it  was  always  with  thousands  behind  him. 
He  felt  the  great  body  of  workers  at  his  back,  whether  he  was 
fighting  in  the  open  or  waiting  with  close-buttoned  coat  to  deal 
with  the  leaders  of  the  opposing  camp.  But  when  he  went  home 
to  Ellen  he  had  only  himself  to  rely  on  for  support.  And  he 
could  not  get  near  her.  Strongly  as  he  was  drawn  by  the  life 
away  from  home>  she  still  held  the  secret  of  his  life  in  her  hands. 
%e  was  strong  and  would  not  be  swept  aside.  He  was  farced  to 
ponder  over  her  nature  and  to  search  for  a  solution. 

Pelle  had  to  deal  with  countless  numbers  of  families,  and 
what  he  saw  was  not  always  edifying.  Home  was  a  conception 
which  was  only  now  forcing  its  way  downward  from  the  middle 
classes.  Even  in  periods  of  normal  employment  the  workers 
earned  little  enough  when  it  came  to  providing  a  decent  family 
life,  and  the  women  knew  nothing  of  making  a  comfortable 
home.  The  man  might  be  tidy  and  well-dressed  when  one  met 
him  out  of  doors,  but  if  you  went  to  his  home  it  was  always  the 
same  ^hing;  a  dark,  grimy  den  and  a  worn-out  wife,  who 
moved  about  scolding  amidst  a  swarm  of  children.  Wages  were 
enough  for  one  only  to  live  in  comfort.  The  man  represented 
the  household  out  of  doors.  He  must  take  sandwiches  to  his 
work,  and  he  must  have  something  decent  too  when  he  got  home. 
The  others  managed  with  a  little  bread  and  coffee;  it  was  of  no 
use  to  talk  of  regular  family  meals.  And  the  man  must  have 
clothes;  he  was  the  visible  portion  of  the  household,  and  he  sup- 

282 


THE    GBEAT   STRUGGLE  283 

ported  it.  It  was  of  no  use  to  look  for  anything  farther  in  the 
way  of  ideas  from  these  women;  they  saw  nothing  but  unem- 
ployment and  the  want  at  home,  and  when  the  husband  showed 
himself  they  drove  him  out  of  tiie  house  with  their  scolding 
ways.  'TTou  go  out  and  meddle  with  everything  you  can  think 
of  that  doesn't  concern  us — ^politics  and  big  talk — ^instead  of 
doing  your  work  properly  and  leaving  the  fools  to  squabble 
among  themselves!'*  The  result  was  that  they  did  their  work 
for  the  organization  in  the  taverns.  Many  of  them  held  posi- 
tions of  confidence^  and  Pelle  went  to  the  taverns  to  confer  with 
them.  They  were  dejected,  when  they  arrived,  and  had  before 
all  else  to  be  thawed  out. 

There  Pelle  came  to  them,  with  his  brilliant  hopes.  When 
they  lamented  in  their  dejection,  he  promised  great  things  of 
the  future.  "Our  wives  will  soon  see  that  we  are  in  the  right. 
The  day  will  soon  come  when  we  shall  be  able  to  go  home  with 
a  proper  week's  wages,  that  will  be  enough  for  the  whole 
family.*' 

"And  suppose  it  doesn't  come  off?"  they  would  say, 

*1t  will  come  off — if  only  we  hold  outl"  he  cried,  smiting 
the  table. 

Yes,  he  might  well  see  the  bright  side  of  things.  He  had  a 
wife  who  came  from  a  long-established  home,  who  kept  things 
elean  and  tidy  for  him,  and  knew  how  to  make  much  do  the 
work  of  little;  the  daughter  of  an  old  unionist  who  had  grown 
up  in  the  midst  of  the  movement — ^a  wife  who  saw  her  husband's 
doings  witii  understanding  eyes;  yes,  he  might  well  smile  I  As 
to  the  last,  Pelle  was  silent. 

In  this  particular  she  had  accepted  neither  inheritance  nor 
teaching;  she  was  as  she  was,  and  she  would  never  be  different, 
whatever  might  pass  over  her  head.  Pelle  was  sacrificing  wife 
and  children  to  a  fixed  idea,  in  order  not  to  leave  a  few  indif- 
ferent comrades  in  the  lurch!  That,  and  the  strike,  and  the 
severe  condemnation  of  those  who  would  not  keep  step,  was,  and 
remained,  for  her,  so  much  tavern  nonsense.  It  was  something 
the  workers  had  got  into  their  heads  as  a  result  of  talking  when 
they  were  not  precisely  sober. 

That  was  what  it  was,  and  it  filled  her  heart  with  pain  and 
mortification  that  she  and  hers  should  be  set  aside  for  people 


284  PELLB   THE   CONQUEROR 

who  were  nothing  to  them.  And  this  pain  made  her  beantiftil, 
and  justified  her  in  her  own  eyes. 

She  did  not  complain  in  words^  and  she  was  always  careful 
to  set  before  Pelle  whatever  the  house  could  provide.  He  always 
found  everything  in  order,  and  he  understood  what  efforts  it 
must  cost  her— considering  the  smallness  of  tiie  means  which 
she  had  at  her  disposal.  There  was  no  weak  point  in  her  de- 
fences; and  this  made  the  position  still  more  oppressive;  he 
could  not  evoke  an  explosion,  a  ventilation  of  her  grievances; 
it  was  impossible  to  quarrel  with  her  and  make  friends  again. 

Often  he  wished  that  Ellen  would  become  n^lectful,  like  so 
many  others.  But  she  was  always  attentive;  the  more  the  dr- 
ciunstances  enabled  her  to  condemn  him,  the  more  correctly  did 
she  behave. 

If  only  he  could  have  explained  her  lack  of  comprehension  by 
supposing  that  her  mind  was  barren  and  self-seeking  I  But  in 
his  eyes  she  had  always  been  quite  simple  and  single-minded, 
and  yet  her  nature  was  to  him  a  continual  enigma!  It  was 
true  she  was  not  excessively  benevolent  or  sympatiietic  where 
others  were  concerned;  but  on  the  other  hand  she  asked  nothing 
for  herself — ^her  thoughts  were  all  for  him  and  the  children. 
He  must  admit  that  she  had,  without  a  thought,  sacrificed  every- 
thing to  him — ^her  home,  her  whole  world — and  that  she  had  a 
right  to  ask  something  in  return. 

And  she  was  still  unchangeably  the  same.  She  was  indif- 
ferent where  she  herself  was  concerned,  if  only  Pelle  and  the 
children  had  something  she  was  contented;  she  herself  needed 
so  little,  yet  she  seemed  to  take  enough  when  he  watched  her 
eating.  Pelle  often  wondered  that  she  retained  her  healthy 
appearance,  although  the  food  she  ate  was  so  inferior.  Perhaps 
she  helped  herself  in  secret — ^but  he  drove  the  thought  away,  and 
was  ashamed.  She  was  always  completely  indifferent  as  to  what 
she  ate;  she  did  not  notice  what  it  was,  but  served  him  and  tiie 
children  with  the  best  of  it — especially  himself — ^yet  she  seemed 
to  thrive.  Yes,  even  now  she  gave  the  best  to  him.  It  was  as 
though  she  was  fulfilling  some  deep-rooted  law  of  her  nature, 
which  was  independent  of  their  relations  to  one  anotiier.  In 
this  nothing  could  alter  her  habits.  She  might  have  been  com- 
pared to  a  great  beautiful  bitch  that  lies  attentively  marking 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  286 

the  appetite  of  her  youngs  although  none  can  tell^  from  her  de- 
liberate quiety  that  her  own  bowels  are  twisted  with  hunger.  If 
ihej  left  anything^  she  noticed  it  '^  have  eaten^''  she  would 
say^  so  quietiy  that  she  succeeded  as  a  rule  in  deceiving  them. 
TeSy  it  made  him  feel  desperate  to  think  about  it;  the  more  he 
thought  of  it  the  more  unendurable  it  was.  She  was  sacrificing 
herself  for  him,  yet  she  must  condemn  all  his  doings!  She 
knew  how  to  defy  starvation  far  better  than  he — and  she  did  not 
imderstand  why  they  must  go  hungry  I 

But  from  all  these  painful  deliberations  she  emerged  always 
more  prominently  capable^  incomprehensible,  and  beautiful  in 
all  her  strangeness !  And  he  would  hurry  home,  full  of  burning 
longing  and  devotion,  continually  hoping  that  this  time  she 
would  come  to  him  glowing  .with  love,  to  hide  her  eyes,  full  of 
confusion,  on  his  shoulder.  The  disappointment  only  flung  him 
yet  more  violently  into  the  struggle;  the  longing  of  his  heart 
for  a  tender,  careless  hand  made  his  own  hard. 

*  •  •  *  • 

He  was  always  exerting  himself  to  find  some  means  of 
making  money.  At  first,  of  course,  there  was  no  way,  and  he 
became  so  completely  absorbed  in  the  confiict  that  finally  the 
question  no  longer  occupied  his  mind.  It  lurked  in  his  con- 
sciousness, like  a  voluptuous  wish  tiiat  merely  tinged  his  daily 
existence;  it  was  as  though  something  within  his  mind  had 
taken  possession  of  his  talent  for  design,  and  was  always  design- 
ing beautiful  paper  money  and  displaying  it  to  his  imagination. 

One  day  when  he  readied  home  he  found  Widow  Basmussen 
tending  the  children  and  working  on  a  pair  of  canvas  shoes. 
Drunken  Yalde  had  left  her  again — ^had  fiown  out  into  the 
spring!  Ellen  had  gone  out  to  work.  A  sudden  pain  shot 
through  him.  Her  way  of  doing  this,  without  saying  a  word  to 
him,  was  like  a  blow  in  the  face,  and  at  first  he  was  angry.  But 
disloyalty  was  foreign  to  his  nature.  He  had  to  admit  that  she 
was  within  her  rights ;  and  with  that  his  anger  evaporated,  leav- 
ing him  bewildered;  something  within  him  seemed  tottering; 
surely  this  was  a  topsy-turvy  world !  'T  might  as  well  stay  at 
home  and  look  after  the  children,'*  he  thought  bitterly. 

**m  stay  with  the  children  now.  Madam  Basmussen  P  he 
said.    The  woman  put  her  work  together. 


286  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

^Tes,  they'ye  got  a  lot  to  go  through/'  she  said,  standing  in 
the  doorway.  ^T,  don't  myself  understand  what  if  s  all  about^ 
but  one  must  always  do  something  1  That's  my  motto.  For 
things  can't  be  worse  than  they  are.  ^idow* !  Pooh  1  They 
wont  let  us  behave  ourselves!  A  man  can  scarcely  look  after 
himself^  let  alone  a  f amily,  in  this  accursed  world — and  one 
needn't  call  one's  self  Madam  to  get  children!  Here  have  I 
been  knocking  about  al>  my  lif e,  ruining  my  health  and  happi- 
ness, and  have  I  earned  as  much  from  all  my  blackguards  as 
would  pay  for  the  rags  I've  worn?  No;  I've  had  to  beg  them 
nicely  of  the  fine  folks  for  whom  I  do  washing  1  Yes,  they  are 
ready  to  skin  one  alive — Madam  Rasmussen  has  proved  that. 
So  I  say,  one  must  always  try  something !  To-day  the  boy  comes 
home  and  says,  ^Mother,  they've  put  up  the  price  of  firewood 
again — an  ore  the  two  dozen!'  'What  does  that  matter  to  us, 
boy?  Can  we  buy  two  dozen  at  once?'  I  say.  TTes,  mother,  but 
then  the  one  dozen  will  cost  an  ore  more.'  And  eggs,  they  cost 
one  krone  twenty  a  score  where  the  rich  folks  buy  them — ^but 
here  I  ^o,  my  dear  madam,  if  you  take  two  eggs  you  must  pay 
fifteen  ore !'  That  makes  eight  ore  for  an  egg,  for  if  one  tikes 
the  smallest  quantity  the  profits  aren't  in  proportion.  It's  hard 
to  be  poor.  If  if  s  never  going  to  be  better,  may  the  devil  take 
him  that's  made  it  all  I    That  was  a  fine  swear  I" 

Pelle  sat  playing  with  Toung  Lasse.  Madam  Rasmussen's 
words  had  aroused  something  in  him.  That  was  the  eternal 
complaint,  the  old,  old  cry!  Whenever  he  heard  it,  the  world 
of  the  poor  man  became  even  more  plainly  visible  for  what  it 
was — and  he  ought  to  know  it!  It  was  a  frightful  abyss  that 
he  looked  down  into;  it  was  bottomless;  and  it  seemed  forever 
to  reveal  fresh  depths.    And  he  was  right — ^he  was  right 

He  sat  carelessly  dravring  something  for  the  child  on  a  scrap 
of  paper,  thinking  of  things  quite  different;  but  involuntarily 
the  drawing  took  shape  from  within  his  hand.  '^That's  money, 
that's  money!"  cried  Young  Lasse,  clapping  his  hands.  Pelle 
waked  up  and  examined  his  drawing;  sure  enough,  there  was  a 
rough  sketch  of  a  ten-kroner  note!  It  fiattered  his  father's 
heart  that  the  child  had  recognized  it;  and  he  was  seized  by  tiie 
desire  to  see  how  like  it  was.  But  where  in  all  the  world  was 
he  to  get  a  *T)lue"  ?    Pelle,  who  at  this  time  superintended  the 


THE   GEEAT   STRUGGLE  887 

colloction  and  distribntmg  of  millions^  did  not  possess  ten 
kroner  I  The  pipe!  The  pipe  I  That  was  what  the  boy  got 
his  idea  from !  His  old  Christmas  present,  queerly  enough^  had 
a  ten-kroner  note  on  the  bowl — and  that  gave  him  an  idea  I  He 
got  it  out  and  compared  it;  it  was  a  long  time  since  he  had 
smoked  the  pipe — ^he  couldn't  afford  it.  He  began  eagerly  to 
fill  in  the  drawing  while  Young  Lasse  stood  by,  amusing  himself 
by  watching  the  rapid  movements  of  the  pencil.  ^Tather  is 
clever — Father  drawl*'  he  said,  and  wanted  to  wake  his  sister 
80  that  she  could  take  part  in  the  game. 

No,  the  result  was  not  good  I  The  design  would  have  to  be 
cut  in  wood  and  printed  in  color  for  the  appearance  really  to 
be  similar.    But  then  Ellen  came  home,  and  he  hid  it  away. 

^'Won't  you  give  up  going  out  to  work?'*  he  said.  '^ITl  pro- 
vide what  is  absolutely  necessary.'* 

''Why?"  she  retorted  resolutely.  *T['m  not  too  good  to  do 
anything!"  There  was  no  tone  in  her  voice  from  which  he 
could  elicit  anything;  so  he  got  ready  to  go  to  the  meeting. 

Now,  when  Ellen  went  out  to  work,  he  ran  home  as  often  as 
he  had  time  in  order  to  look  after  the  children.  He  had  ob- 
tained a  piece  of  hard  wood  and  a  ten-kroner  note.  With  great 
care  he  transferred  the  design  onto  tiie  wood,  and  began  to 
engrave  it  while  he  sat  there  chattering  to  the  children.  This 
task  occupied  unused  faculties;  it  engrossed  him  as  an  artistic 
exercise,  which  lingered  at  the  back  of  his  mind  and  automati- 
cally continued  to  carry  itself  out,  even  when  he  was  away  from 
home.  This  work  filled  his  mind  with  a  peculiar  beauty  so  long 
as  he  was  engaged  on  it.  A  warm,  blissful  world  was  evoked  by 
the  sight  of  this  ten-kroner  note,  which  shone  ever  more  plainly 
out  of  the  darkness  and  swept  all  privations  aside.  When  Pelle 
sat  at  this  work  his  mind  soared  above  all  oppression  as  though 
intoxicated;  unhappy  things  no  longer  existed  for  him.  He 
became  an  optimist  and  mentally  made  Ellen  all  sorts  of  costly 
presents. 

It  was  all  fundamentally  so  simple — ^it  was  only  a  misunder- 
standing— ^nothing  more !  He  must  speak  to  her,  and  she  would 
see  at  once  what  a  happy  life  they  were  going  to  live — ^if  only 
they  held  out.  Silence  had  filled  her  with  resentment.  For- 
tune !   Fortune !   It  was  nearer  than  ever  now,  greater  and  more 


288  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

splendid  than  on  that  other  occasion  when  it  had  knocked  at 
their  door!  Why,  he  did  not  know — ^that  did  not  seem  very 
clear  I 

But  when  he  heard  her  step  on  the  stairs  his  dream  was  shat- 
tered. He  was  awake.  He  concealed  his  work,  ashamed  to 
think  that  she  should  come  home  from  work  and  find  him  at 
play. 

At  times  he  was  oppressed  by  a  feeling  of  the  nnattainable 
in  his  relations  with  Ellen.  Even  to  himself  he  could  not  ex- 
plain the  contradiction  between  ihe  constant  longing  for  more 
ample  and  stable  conditions,  for  triumph  and  victory,  and  his 
impotency  at  home,  where  his  fortunes  were  declining.  He 
wearied  himself  in  trying  to  puzzle  it  out,  and  he  was  seized  by 
a  desire  that  he  might  become  indifferent  to  the  whole  matter. 
He  felt  no  inclination  to  drink,  but  none  the  less  something  was 
working  convulsively  within  him;  a  certain  indifference  as  to 
his  own  welfare,  causing  him  to  run  risks,  not  caring  whether 
he  might  not  commit  some  stupidity  that  would  do  him  harm. 
And  at  such  times  a  voice  cried  loudly  within  him,  especially 
when  he  was  confronted  by  the  bitter  utterances  of  want.  'That 
is  my  old  complaint,''  he  tiiought,  and  he  became  observant  In 
his  childhood  it  had  been  a  sort  of  seizure;  now  it  had  become 
a  voice. 


XXXII 

Eably  one  morning  Pelle  wandered  into  the  city.  He  had 
risen  before  Ellen,  in  order  to  avoid  the  painfulness  of  sitting 
down  to  breakfast  with  her.  Ellen  tried  all  sorts  of  ruses  in 
order  to  give  him  a  proper  breakfast,  and  it  was  not  difficult  to 
persuade  his  stomach;  but  afterward  he  felt  ashamed  that  he 
should  have  been  cared  for  at  the  cost  of  others;  and  cunning 
though  he  was  too,  he  could  not  get  the  better  of  her  save  by 
slipping  away  while  she  was  still  asleep. 

His  fast^  condition  endowed  the  city,  and  the  whole  of 
life,  with  a  curiously  unsubstantial  aspect.  Before  him  lay  a 
long  day  full  of  terrific  labors,  and  bdiind  him  was  the  fresh 
triumph  of  the  day  before. 

As  matters  now  stood,  the  employers  in  the  iron  industry 
had  conceived  the  cunning  idea  of  founding  a  blackleg  Union 
for  smiths  and  mechanics,  and  of  giving  it  a  name  closely  re- 
sembling that  of  the  genuine  Union.  Then  they  sent  circulars 
to  the  men,  stating  that  work  would  be  resumed  on  the  follow- 
ing day.  Many  of  the  men  were  not  accustomed  to  read,  and 
regarded  the  circular  as  an  order  from  their  own  Union,  while 
others  were  enticed  by  the  high  wages  offered  by  the  new  so- 
ciety. There  was  great  confusion  among  the  workers  of  these 
trades.  As  soon  as  the  trick  was  exposed  every  respectable  man 
drew  back;  but  there  was  a  great  deal  of  disappointment,  and 
they  felt  horribly  ashamed  before  their  comrades. 

Pelle  was  furious  at  this  trick,  which  affected  him  more  espe- 
cially, as  the  leader  in  open  battle;  he  had  suffered  a  defeat, 
and  he  meditated  revenge.  In  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the 
pickets,  it  was  not  possible  to  procure  a  full  list  of  the  strike- 
breakers ;  his  chagrin  on  this  account  burned  in  his  heart,  like  a 
shameful  sense  of  impotency;  hitherto  he  had  been  noted  for 

289 


290  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

getting  to  the  bottom  of  anything  he  undertook  I  He  resolved 
then  and  there  to  meet  ruse  with  ruse.  He  set  a  trap  for  his 
opponents^  so  that  they  themselves  should  deliver  the  strike- 
breakers into  his  hands.  One  morning  he  published  his  list  in 
The  Working  Man  with  the  proud  remark,  'TLook,  the  enemy  has 
no  more  P*  Did  the  employers  really  fall  into  tiie  trap,  or  was 
the  fate  of  the  strike-breakers  really  indifferent  to  them?  Next 
morning  their  organ  protested,  and  gave  the  number  of  the 
black-legs  and  their  names  into  the  bargain ! 

This  was  a  smack  I  A  good  one  this;  it  brought  a  light  to 
the  thin,  impassive  faces.  There  was  an  answer  to  the  trick  of 
the  other  dayl  This  Pelle  was  a  deuce  of  a  fellow!  Three 
cheers  for  '^Lightning  Pelle  I''    Hip,  hip,  hurrah ! 

Pelle  was  the  deuce  of  a  fellow  as  he  strode  along  ruddy  and 
full  of  pugnacity,  with  the  echoes  from  the  side-streets  and  the 
tenement-houses  mingled  with  his  own  vigorous  footsteps. 
Streets  and  houses  were  white  with  the  night^s  hoar  frost,  and 
overhead  the  air  was  full  of  a  peculiar  glow  that  came  from  the 
city — a  light  flowing  from  hidden  sources.  He  had  left  all  his 
cares  at  home;  on  every  hand  working-folk  were  greeting  him, 
and  his  greeting  in  return  was  like  an  inspiriting  song.  He 
did  not  know  them,  but  they  knew  him  I  The  feeling  that  his 
work — ^however  deep  the  scars  it  might  leave — ^was  arousing  grat- 
itude, had  an  uplifting  effect  upon  him. 

The  city  was  in  its  morning  mood.  The  lock-out  lay  like  a 
paralyzing  hand  upon  everything;  business  was  slack,  and  the 
middle  classes  were  complaining,  but  there  was  no  prospect  of 
peace;  both  sides  were  irreconcilable.  The  workers  had  lost 
nothing  through  the  rash  cessation  of  the  masons.  Sympathy 
for  the  lower  classes  had  become  a  political  principle;  and  con- 
tributions were  still  pouring  in  from  the  coimtry.  Considerable 
sums  came  from  abroad.  The  campaign  was  now  costing  the 
workers  half  a  million  kroner  a  week;  and  the  help  from  out- 
side was  like  a  drop  in  the  ocean.  But  it  had  the  effect  of  a 
moral  support,  and  it  stimulated  the  self -taxation  to  which  all 
were  subject.  The  hundred  thousand  households  of  the  poor 
parted  with  their  last  possessions  in  order  to  continue  the  strug- 
gle; tlvsy  meant  to  force  a  decision  that  should  affect  their 
whole  future.    The  employers  tried  to  hinder  the  great  National 


THE   GREAT   STBTIGGLE  291 

Federation  by  calling  the  attention  of  the  authorities  to  an  an- 
cient statute  concerning  mendicancy;  but  that  merely  aroused 
merriment.  A  little  laughter  over  such  expedients  was  per- 
missible. 

The  workers  had  become  accustomed  to  starvation.  They 
went  no  more  into  the  forest,  but  strolled  thoughtfully  through 
the  streets  like  people  who  have  too  much  time  on  their  hands, 
so  that  the  city's  face  wore  a  peculiar  stamp  of  meditative  pov- 
erty. Their  loitering  steps  aroused  no  echo,  and  in  the  houses 
the  quietness  gave  one  food  for  reflection.  The  noisy,  ever- 
hungry  children  were  scattered  over  the  face  of  the  country — 
they  at  least  had  plenty  to  eat.  But  the  place  was  empty  for 
the  lack  of  them  I 

Pelle  met  several  squads  of  workers;  they  were  on  the  way 
to  the  various  roU-calls.  They  raised  their  heads  as  he  passed ;[ 
his  footsteps  echoed  loudly  enough  for  all !  It  was  the  hope  and 
the  will  of  forty  thousand  men  that  passed  there — ^Pelle  was 
the  expression  of  them  all.  They  stared  at  his  indomitable  fig- 
ure, and  drew  themselves  up.  "A  devil  of  a  chap !''  they  told  one 
another  joyfully;  '*he  looks  as  if  he  could  trample  'em  all  un- 
derfoot I  Look  at  him — ^he  scarcely  makes  way  for  that  great 
loaded  wagon  1    Long  live  Pelle,  boys !'' 

The  tavern-keepers  stood  on  their  cellar  stairs  gaping  up  at 
the  morning  sky — ^this  was  a  time  of  famine  for  them  I  In  the 
tavern  windows  hung  cards  with  tiie  inscription:  ''Contribu- 
tions received  here  for  the  locked-out  workers  !'* 

On  the  Queen  Luise  Bridge  Pelle  encountered  a  pale,  fat 
little  man  in  a  shabby  coat.  He  had  flabby  features  and  a  great 
red  nose.  "Gtood  morning,  General !''  cried  Pelle  gaily;  the  man 
made  a  condescending  movement  witii  his  hand.  This  was  The 
Working  Ma/n's  man  of  straw;  a  sometime  capitalist,  who  for  a 
small  weekly  wage  was,  as  far  as  the  public  was  concerned,  the 
respomsible  editor  of  the  paper.  He  served  various  terms  of 
imprisonment  for  the  paper,  and  for  a  further  payment  of  five 
kroner  a  week  he  also  worked  out  in  prison  the  fines  infiicted 
on  the  paper.  When  he  was  not  in  jail  he  kept  himself  alive  by 
drinking.  He  suffered  from  megalomania,  and  considered  that 
he  led  the  whole  labor  movement;  for  which  reason  h^  could 
not  bear  Pelle. 


298  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROB 

In  the  great  court-yard  of  The  Working  Man  building  the 
dockers  were  assembled  to  answer  the  roll.  The  president  of 
their  Union  met  Pelle  in  the  doorway;  he  was  the  very  man 
whom  Pelle  and  Howling  Peter  had  rescued  down  by  the  harbor 
— now  he  was  working  for  the  new  ideas  I 

'^ell^  how  goes  it  V'  asked  Pelle^  shaking  his  hand. 

''Splendid  I    A  thousand  men  all  but  seven !'' 

"But  Where's  the  jojdtulJacob?    IsheiU^ 

'Tffe^s  in  jail/^  replied  the  other  gloomily.  ''He  couldn't 
bear  to  see  his  old  folks  starving — so  he  broke  into  a  grocery, 
he  and  his  brother — and  now  they^  both  in  prison.'* 

For  a  moment  the  lines  on  Pelle's  forehead  were  taribly 
deep  and  gloomy;  he  stood  gazing  blindly  into  space;  the  radiant 
expression  left  his  countenance^  which  was  filled  with  a  pitying 
gravity.  The  docker  stared  at  him — ^was  he  going  to  sleep  on 
his  feet  ?    But  then  he  pulled  himself  together. 

"Welly  comrades,  are  y6u  finding  the  days  too  long?''  he 
cried  gaily. 

"Ach,  as  for  that!  Ifs  the  first  time  one's  had  the 
time  to  get  to  know  one's  own  wife  and  children  properly!" 
they  replied.  "But  for  all  that  it  would  be  fine  to  gel  busy 
again!" 

It  was  obvious  that  idleness  was  at  last  beginning  to  depress 
them;  there  was  a  peculiar  pondering  expression  on  tiieir  im- 
passive features,  and  their  eyes  turned  to  him  with  a  persistent 
questioning.  They  asked  that  this  undertaking  of  his  should 
be  settled  one  way  or  the  otiier.  They  were  not  weakening.;  they 
always  voted  for  the  continuance  of  the  campaign,  for  that  which 
they  sought  depended  thereon;  but  they  gazed  into  his  face  for 
a  look  that  might  promise  success. 

He  had  to  answer  many  singular  questions;  privation  engen- 
dered in  the  most  fantastic  ideas,  which  revealed  the  fact  that 
their  quiet,  controlled  bearing  was  the  product  of  the  observa- 
tion and  the  energy  of  the  many. 

"Shall  we  deprive  the  rich  of  all  their  wealth  and  power?" 
asked  one  man,  after  long  pondering  and  gaziag  at  Pelle.  The 
struggle  seemed  to  have  dealt  hardly  with  him;  but  it  had  lit  a 
spark. in  his  eyes. 

"Yes,  we  are  going  now  to  take  our  rights  as  men,  and  we 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  293 

Shan  demand  that  the  worker  shall  be  respected/'  Pelle  replied. 
Then  thereH  be  no  more  talk  of  poor  man  and  gentleman  I^ 

^ut  suppose  they  try  to  get  on  top  of  ns  again?  We  mnst 
make  short  work  of  them^  so  that  they  canH  clamber  on  onr 
backs  and  ride  ns  again/' 

'^Do  yon  want  to  drive  th^m  all  onto  the  Common  and  shoot 
them?  That's  not  necessary/'  said  his  neighbor.  '^When  this 
is  settled  no  one  will  dare  to  take  the  food  out  of  onr  months 
again." 

''Won't  there  be  any  more  poverty  then?"  asked  the  first 
speaker^  taming  to  Pelle. 

^Oy  once  we  get  our  affairs  properly  in  going  order;  then 
tiiere  will  be  comfort  in  every  home.  Don't  you  read  your 
paper?" 

Tes,  he  read  it^  but  there  was  no  harm  in  hearing  the  great 
news  confirmed  by  Pelle  himself.  And  Pelle  could  confirm  it^ 
because  he  never  harbored  a  doubt.  It  had  been  difiBcult  to  get 
the  masses  to  grasp  the  new  conception  of  things — as  difScult 
as  to  move  the  earth !    Something  big  must  happen  in  return  I 

A  few  of  the  men  had  brought  out  sandwiches  and  began  to 
eat  them  as  they  debated.  "Good  digestion !"  said  Pelle,  nod- 
ding farewell  to  them.  His  mouth  was  watering,  and  he  remem- 
bered that  he  had  had  nothing  to  eat  or  drink.  But  he  had  no 
time  to  think  about  it;  he  must  go  to  Stolpe  to  arrange  about 
the  posting  of  the  pickets. 

Over  the  way  stood  Marie  in  a  white  cap,  with  a  basket  over 
her  arm ;  she  nodded  to  him,  with  rosy  cheeks.  Transplantation 
had  made  her  grow ;  every  time  he  saw  her  she  was  more  erect 
and  prettier. 

At  his  parents'-in-law  the  strictest  economy  prevailed.  All 
sorts  of  things — ^household  possessions — ^had  disappeared  from 
that  once  so  comfortable  home ;  but  there  was  no  lack  of  good 
spirits.  Stolpe  was  pottering  about  waiting  for  his  breakfast; 
he  had  been  at  work  early  that  morning. 

''Whafs  the  girl  doing?"  he  asked.    ''We  never  see  her 

now." 

"She  has  such  a  lot  to  do/'  said  Pelle  apologetically.  "And 
now  she's  going  out  to  work  as  well." 

'T^ell,  well,  with  things  as  they  are  she's  not  too  fine  to  lend 


'294  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOB 

a  hand.  But  we  don't  really  know  whafB  amiss  with  her — she's 
a  rebellions  nature!  Thaiilc  Grod  she's  not  a  man — she  would 
have  brought  dissolution  into  the  ranks !" 

Breakfast  consisted  of  a  portion  of  cofFee  and  bread-and- 
butter  and  porridge.  Madam  Stolpe  could  not  find  her  fine  new 
silver  coffee-service,  which  her  children  had  given  her  on  her 
silver-wedding  day.    'T  must  have  put  it  awfiy,"  she  said. 

''Well,  well,  that'll  soon  be  found  again,  mother  I"  said 
Stolpe.  ''Now  we  shall  soon  have  better  times ;  many  fine  things 
will  make  their  appearance  again  then,  we  shall  see !" 

"Have  you  been  to  the  machine-works  this  morning,  father- 
in-law?"  asked  Pelle. 

"Yes,  I've  been  there.  But  there  is  nothing  more  for  the 
pickets  to  do.  The  employers  have  quartered  all  the  men  in  the 
factory;  they  get  full  board  and  all  there.  There  must  be  a 
crowd  of  foreign  strike-breakers  there — ^the  work's  in  full 
swing." 

This  was  an  overwhelming  piece  of  news  t  The  iron-masters 
had  won  the  first  victory !  This  would  quickly  have  a  most  de- 
pressing effect  on  the  workers,  when  they  saw  that  their  tracfe 
could  be  kept  going  without  them. 

"We  must  put  a  bridle  on  them,"  said  Pelle,  "or  theyTl  get 
off  the  course  and  the  whole  organization  will  fall  to  pieces.  As 
for  those  fellows  in  there,  we  must  get  a  louse  under  their  shirts 
flomehow." 

"How  can  we  do  that  when  they  are  locked  in,  and  the  police 
are  patrolling  day  and  night  in  front  of  the  gates?  We  can't 
even  speak  to  them."    Stolpe  laughed  despairingly. 

"Then  some  one  must  slink  in  and  pretend  he's  in  want  of 
employment !" 

Stolpe  started.  "As  a  strike-breaker?  You'll  never  in  this 
life  get  a  respectable  man  to  do  that,  even  if  ifs  only  in  jest! 
I  wouldn't  do  it  myself!  A  strike-breaker  is  a  strike-breaker, 
turn  and  twist  it  how  you  will." 

-  "A  strike-breaker,  I  suppose,  is  one  who  does  his  comrades 
harm.  The  man  who  risks  his  skin  in  this  way  deserves  aii- 
other  name." 

"I  won't  admit  that,"  said  Stolpe.  "That's  a  little  too  ab- 
^tract  for  me;  anyhow,  I'm  not  going  to  argue  with  you.    But 


THE   GBEAT   STBUGGLB  296 

in  my  catechism  it  says  that  he  is  a  strike-breaker  who  accepts 
employment  where  assistance  is  forbidden — and  that  I  stick  to  I'' 

Pelle  might  talk  as  much  as  he  liked ;  the  old  man  would  not 
budge  an  inch.  ''But  it  would  be  another  matter  if  you  wanted 
to  do  it  yourself/'  said  Stolpe.  'TTou  don't  have  to  account  to 
any  one  for  what  you  do — ^you  just  do  what  comes  into  your 
head/' 

'1  have  to  account  to  the  Cause  for  my  doings,"  said  Pelle 
sharply,  ''and  for  that  very  reason  I  want  to  do  it  myself !" 

Stolpe  contracted  his  arms  and  stretched  them  out  again. 
"Ah,  it  would  be  good  to  have  work  again  \"  he  cried  suddenly. 
"Idleness  eats  into  one's  limbs  like  the  gout.  And  now  there's 
the  rent,  mother — ^where  the  devil  are  we  to  get  that?  It  must 
be  paid  on  the  nail  on  Saturday,  otherwise  out  we  go — so  the 
landlord  says." 

"We'll  soon  find  that,  father  1"  said  Madam  Stolpe.  "Don't 
you  lose  heart  1" 

Stolpe  looked  round  the  room.  "Yes,  there's  still  a  bit  to 
take,  as  Hunger  said  when  he  began  on  the  bowels.  But  listen, 
Pelle — do  you  know  what?  I'm  your  father-in-law — ^to  be  sure 
— but  you  haven't  a  wife  like  mine !" 

"I'm  contented  with  Ellen  as  she  is,"  said  Pelle. 
»  There  was  a  knock;  it  was  Stolpe's  brother,  the  carpenter. 
He  looked  exhausted ;  he  was  thin  and  poorly  dressed ;  his  eyes 
were  surrounded  by  red  patches.    He  did  not  look  at  those  whose 
hands  he  took. 

"Sit  down,  brother,"  said  Stolpe,  pushing  a  chair  toward 
him. 

"Thanks — ^I  must  go  on  again  directly.  It  was — ^I  only 
wanted  to  tell  you — ^well  ..."   He  stared  out  of  the  window. 

"Is  anything  wrong  at  home  ?" 

"No,  no,  not  that  exactly.  I  just  wanted  to  say — ^I  want  to 
give  notice  that  I'm  deserting !"  he  cried  suddenly. 

Stolpe  sprang  to  his  feet;  he  was  as  white  as  chalk.  "You 
think  what  you  are  doing  I"  he  cried  threateningly. 

"I've  had  time  enough  to  think.  They  are  starving,  I  tell 
yon — and  there's  got  to  be  an  end  of  it.  I  only  wanted  to  tell 
you  beforehand  so  that  you  shouldn't  hear  it  from  others — 
after  all,  you're  my  brother." 


296  PELLE  THE   CONQUEEOE 

**Yotir  brother — ^I'm  your  brother  no  longer!  Ton  do  this 
and  we've  done  with  one  another!''  roared  Stolpe>  striking  the 
table,  ^ut  yon  won't  do  it^  you. shan't  do  it!  Ood  damn  me^ 
I  couldn't  live  through  the  shame  of  seeing  the  comrades  con- 
demning my  own  brother  in  the  open  street!  And  I  shall  be 
with  them  I  I  shall  be  the  first  to  give  you  a  kick,  if  you  are  my 
brother  I"    He  was  quite  beside  himself. 

'^ell^  well^  we  can  still  talk  it  oyer,"  said  the  carpenter 
quietly.  **But  now  you  know — ^I  didn't  want  to  do  anything  be- 
hind your  back."    And  then  he  went 

Stolpe  paced  up  and  down  the  room^  movmg  from  one  object 
to  another.  He  picked  them  up  and  put  them  down  again^  quite 
unthinkingly.  His  hands  were  trembling  violently;  and  finally 
he  went  to  tiie  other  room  and  shut  himself  in.  After  a  time  his 
wife  entered  the  room.  'Ton  had  better  go,  Pelle»!  I  dont 
think  father  is  fit  for  company  to-day.  He's  lying  there  quite 
gray  in  the  face — ^if  he  could  only  cry  even!  Oh,  those  two 
brothers  have  always  been  so  much  to  each  other  till  now  I  They 
were  so  imited  in  everything  1" 

Pelle  went;  he  was  thinking  earnestly.  He  could  see  that 
Stolpe,  in  his  int^rity,  would  consider  it  his  duty  to  treat  his 
brother  more  harshly  than  others,  dearly  as  he  loved  him;  per- 
haps he  himself  would  imdertake  the  picketing  of  the  place 
where  his  brother  went  to  work. 

Out  by  the  lakes  he  met  a  squad  of  pickets  who  were  on  their 
way  out  of  the  city;  he  accompanied  them  for  some  distanoCj, 
in  order  to  make  certain  arrangements.  Across  the  road  a  young 
fellow  came  out  of  a  doorway  and  slunk  ro\md  the  comer,  ^ou 
there,  stop!"  cried  one  of  the  comrades.  'TPhere  he  is — the 
toff  I"  A  few  pickets  followed  him  down  Castle  Street  and  came 
back  leading  him  among  them.  A  crowd  began  to  form  round 
the  whole  party,  women  and  children  speedily  joining  it. 

*Trou  are  not  to  do  anything  to  him,"  said  Pelle  decisively. 

''God  knows  no  one  wants  to  touch  him  !*'  they  retorted.  For 
a  while  they  stood  silently  gazing  at  him,  as  though  weighing 
him  in  their  minds;  then  one  after  another  spat  at  him,  and 
they  went  their  way.  The  fellow  went  silently  into  a  doorway 
and  stood  there  wiping  the  spittle  from  his  face  with  his  sleeve. 
Pelle  followed  him  in  order  to  say  a  kind  word  to  him  and  lead 


THE   GEEAT   STEUGGLB  297 

him  back  into  the  organization.  The  lad  pulled  himself  up 
hastily  as  Pelle  approached. 

"Are  you  coming  .to  spit  at  me?**  he  said  contemptuously. 
^TTou  forgot  it  before — ^why  didn't  you  do  it  then  ?** 

**I  don't  spit  at  people/*  said  Pelle,  'T)ut  your  comrades  are 
right  to  despise  you.  You  have  left  them  in  the  lurch.  Come 
with  me^  and  1*11  enter  you  in  the  organization  again,  and  no  one 
shall  molest  you.** 

^  am  to  go  about  as  a  culprit  and  be  taunted — ^no,  thanks  1** 

'T)o  you  prefer  to  injure  your  own  comrades  ?** 

^  ask  for  permission  to  look  after  my  old  mother.  The 
rest  of  you  can  go  to  the  devil.  My  mother  i8n*t  going  to  hang 
about  courtyards  singing,  and  picking  over  the  dustbins,  while 
her  son  plays  the  great  man!  I  leave  that  to  certain  other 
people  I** 

Pelle  turned  crimson.  He  knew  this  allusion  was  meant  for 
Father  Lasse;  the  desperate  condition  of  the  old  man  was  lurk- 
ing somewhere  in  his  mind  like  an  ingrowing  grief,  and  now  it 
came  to  the  surface.  'T)are  you  repeat  what  you  said?**  he 
growled,  pressing  close  up  to  the  other. 

''And  if  I  were  married  I  shouldn*t  let  my  wife  earn  my 
daily  bread  for  me — ^I  should  leave  that  to  the  pimps  I** 

Oho!  That  was  like  the  tattlers,  to  blacken  a  man  from 
behind  I  Evidently  they  were  spreading  all  sorts  of  lying  rumors 
about  him,  while  he  had  placed  all  that  he  possessed  at  their 
disposal.  Now  Pelle  was  furious;  the  leader  could  go  to  hell! 
He  gave  the  fellow  a  few  sound  boxes  on  the  ear,  and  asked 
him  which  he  would  rather  do — ^hold  his  mouth  or  take  some 
more? 

Morten  appeared  in  the  doorway — ^this  had  happened  in  the 
doorway  of  the  house  in  which  he  worked.  'TPhis  won*t  do!** 
he  whispered,  and  he  drew  Pelle  away  with  him.  Pelle  could 
make  no  reply;  he  threw  himself  on  Morten*8  bed.  His 
eyes  were  still  blazing  with  anger  at  the  insult,  and  he 
needed  air. 

'TPhings  are  going  badly  here  now,**  said  Morten,  looking  at 
him  with  a  peculiar  smile. 

'TTes,  I  know  very  well  you  can*t  stand  it — all  the  same, 
they  must  hold  together.** 


298  PELLE   THE    CONQUEBOB 

''And  supposing  they  don't  get  better  conditions?** 

'Then  ijiey  must  accept  the  consequences.  Thafs  better 
tlian  the  whole  Cause  should  go  to  the  wall  I** 

"Are  those  the  new  ideas?  I  think  the  ignorant  have  al- 
ways had  to  take  the  consequences  I  And  there  has  never  been 
lacking  some  one  to  spit  on  them  !'*  said  Morten  sadly. 

"But,  listen!*'  cried  Pelle,  springing  to  his  feet  *Trou11 
please  not  blame  me  for  spitting  at  anybody — ^the  others  did 
that  I**  He  was  very  near  losing  his  temper  again,  but  Morten's 
quiet  manner  mastered  him. 

'The  others — ^that  was  nothing  at  all !  But  it  was  you  who 
spat  seven  times  over  into  the  poor  devil's  face — ^I  was  standing 
in  the  shop,  and  saw  it.** 

Pelle  stared  at  him,  speechless.  Was  this  the  truth-loving 
Morten  who  stood  there  lying? 

*Trou  say  you  saw  me  spit  at  him  ?** 

Morten  nodded.  "Do  you  want  to  accept  the  applause  and 
the  honor,  and  sneak  out  of  the  beastliness  and  the  destruction? 
You  have  taken  a  great  responsibility  on  yourself,  Pelle.  Look, 
how  blindly  they  follow  you — at  the  sight  of  your  bare  face,  I*m 
tempted  to  say.  For  I*m  not  myself  quite  sure  tiiat  you  give 
enough  of  yourself.  There  is  blood  on  your  hands — but  is  any. 
of  it  your  own  blood?** 

Pelle  sat  there  heavily  pondering;  Morten*s  words  always 
forced  his  thoughts  to  follow  paths  they  had  never  before  known. 
But  now  he  understood  him;  and  a  dark  shadow  passed  over 
his  face,  which  left  its  traces  behind  it.  "This  business  has  cost 
me  my  home,**  he  said  quietly.  "Ellen  cares  nothing  for  me 
now,  and  my  children  are  being  neglected,  and  are  drifting 
away  from  me.  I  have  given  up  splendid  prospects  for  the 
future;  I  go  hungry  every  day,  and  I  have  to  see  my  old  father 
in  want  and  wretchedness  I  I  believe  no  one  can  feel  as  home- 
less and  lonely  and  forsaken  as  I  do !  So  it  has  cost  me  some- 
thing— ^you  force  me  to  say  it  myself,**  He  smiled  at  Morten^ 
but  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"Forgive  me,  my  dear  friend  1**  said  Morten.  "I  was  afraid 
you  didn't  really  know  what  you  were  doing.  Already  there  are 
many  left  on  the  fidd  of  battle,  and  it*s  grievous  to  see  them — 
especially  if  it  should  all  lead  to  nothing.** 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  299 

*T)o  you  condemn  the  Movement,  then?  According  to  you, 
I  can  never  do  anything  wise  I'* 

^ot  if  it  leads  to  an  end  I  I  myself  have  dreamed  of  lead- 
ing them  on  to  fortune — ^in  my  own  way;  but  it  isn't  a  way 
after  their  own  heart.  You  have  power  over  them — ^they  follow 
you  blindly — ^lead  them  on,  then!  But  every  wound  they  re- 
ceive in  battle  should  be  yours  as  well — otherwise  you  are 
not  the  right  man  for  the  place.  And  are  you  certain  of 
the  goal?^ 

Yes,  Pelle  was  certain  of  that.  ''And  we  are  reaching  itl*^ 
he  cried,  suddenly  inspired.  "See  how  cheerfully  they  approve 
of  everything,  and  just  go  forward  1*' 

''But,  Pelle  !*'  said  Morten,  with  a  meaning  smile,  laying  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  "a  leader  is  not  Judge  Lynch.  Otherwise 
the  parties  would  fight  it  out  with  clubs !'' 

"Ah,  you  are  thinking  of  what  happened  just  now!*'  said 
Pelle.  "That  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Movement !  He  said 
my  father  was  going  about  the  backyards  fishing  things  out  of 
dustbins — so  I  gave  him  a  few  on  the  jaw.  I  have  the  same 
right  as  any  one  else  to  revenge  an  insult.''  He  did  not  mention 
the  evil  words  concerning  Ellen ;  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 

do  80. 

"But  that  is  true,"  said  Morten  quietly. 

"Then  why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

'T[  thought  you  knew  it.  And  you  have  enough  to  strug- 
gle against  as  it  is — ^you've  nothing  to  reproach  yourself 
with." 

'Terhaps  you  can  tell  me  where  he  could  be  found?"  said 
Pelle,  in  a  low  voice. 

"He  is  usually  to  be  found  in  this  quarter." 

Pelle  went.  His  mind  was  oppressed;  all  that  day  fresh 
responsibilities  had  heaped  themselves  upon  him ;  a  burden  heavy 
for  one  man  to  bear.  Was  he  to  accept  the  responsibility  for  aU 
that  the  Movement  destroyed  as  it  progressed,  simply  because  he 
had  placed  all  his  energies  and  his  whole  fortune  at  its  disposal? 
And  now  Father  Lasse  viras  going  about  as  a  scavenger.  He 
blushed  for  shame — ^yet  how  could  he  have  prevented  it?  Was 
he  to  be  made  responsible  for  the  situation?  And  now  they 
were  spitting  upon  Ellen — ^that  was  the  thanks  he  got! 


300  PELLE   THE    CONQXTEEOE 

He  did  not  know  where  to  begin  his  search^  so  he  went  into 
the  courts  and  backyards  and  asked  at  random.'  People  were 
crowding  into  a  courtyard  in  Blaagaard  Street^  so  Pelle  entered 
it  There  was  a  missionary  there  who  spoke  with  the  sing-song 
accent  of  the  Bomhohner^  in  whose  eyes  was  the  peculiar  expres- 
sion which  Pelle  remembered  as  that  of  the  ^saints''  of  his 
childhood.  He  was  preaching  and  singing  alternately.  Pelle 
gazed  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  reminiscence^  and  in  his 
despairing  mood  he  was  near  losing  control  of  himself  and 
bellowing  aloud  as  in  his  childish  years  when  anything 
touched  him  deeply.  This  was  the  very  lad  who  had 
said  something  rude  about  Father  Lasse^  and  whom  he — 
young  as  he  was — ^had  kicked  so  that  he  became  rup- 
tured. He  was  able  to  protect  his  father  in  those  days,  at 
all  events ! 

He  went  up  to  the  preacher  and  held  out  his  hand,  ^f  8 
Peter  Kune  1    So  you  are  here  P 

The  man  looked  at  him  with  a  gaze  that  seemed  to  belong 
to  another  world.  'TTes,  I  had  to  come  over  here,  Pelle  I"  he 
said  significantly.  '^  saw  the  poor  wandering  hither  from  the 
town  and  farther  away,  so  I  followed  them,  so  that  no  harm 
should  come  to  them.  For  you  poor  are  the  chosen  people  of 
God,  who  must  wander  and  wander  until  they  come  into  the 
Kingdom.  Now  the  sea  has  stayed  you  here,  and  you  can  go 
no  farther;  so  you  think  the  Kingdom  must  lie  here.  God  has 
sent  me  to  tell  you  that  you  are  mistaken.  And  you,  Pelle,  will 
you  join  us  now  ?  God  is  waiting  and  longing  for  you ;  he  wants 
to  use  you  for  the  good  of  all  these  little  ones.''  And  he  held 
Pelle's  hand  in  his,  gazing  at  him  compellingly;  perhaps  he 
thought  Pelle  had  come  in  order  to  seek  the  shelter  of  his 
^'Kingdom.'' 

Here  was  another  who  had  the  intention  of  leading  the  poor 
to  the  land  of  fortune  I  But  Pelle  had  his  own  poor.  ^  have 
done  what  I  could  for  them,*'  he  said  self-consciously. 

'7es,  I  know  that  well ;  but  that  is  not  the  right  way,  tiie 
way  you  are  following!  You  do  not  give  them  the  breaid  of 
life!" 

'7  think  they  have  more  need  of  black  bread.    Look  at  them 

I'you  think  they  get  too  much  to  eat?" 


THE   GEEAT   STBXTGGLE  801 

^And  can  you  give  fhem  food^  then?  I  can  give  fhem  fhe 
joy  of  God;  so  that  they  forget  their  hunger  for  a  while.  Can 
you  do  more  than  make  them  feel  their  hunger  even  more 
keenly?** 

Perhaps  I  can.  But  Pve  got  no  time  to  talk  it  over  now; 
I  came  to  look  for  my  old  father.** 

'Tour  f ather^  I  have  met  in  the  streets  lately,  with  a  sack 
bn  his  back — ^he  did  not  look  very  cheerfuL  And  I  met  him 
once  over  yonder  with  Sort  the  shoemaker;  he  wanted  to  come 
over  here  and  spend  his  old  age  with  his  son.** 

Pelle  said  nothings  but  ran  ofF.  He  clenched  his  fists  in 
impotent  wrath  as  he  rushed  out  of  the  place.  People  went 
about  jeering  at  him,  one  more  eagerly  than  the  other^  and  the 
naked  truth  was  that  he — ^young  and  strong  and  capable  as  he 
was  in  his  calling— -could  not  look  after  his  wife  and  children 
and  his  old  father,  even  wh^  he  had  regular  work.  Yes,  so 
damnable  were  the  conditions  that  a  man  in  the  prime  of  his 
youth  could  not  follow  the  bidding  of  nature  and  found  a  family 
without  plunging  those  that  were  dependent  on  him  into  want 
and  misery!  Curse  it  all,  the  entire  system  ought  to  be 
smashed !  If  he  had  power  over  it  he  would  want  to  make  the 
best  use  of  iti 

In  Stone  Street  he  heard  a  hoarse,  quavering  voice  singing 
in  the  central  courtyard  of  one  of  the  houses.  It  was  Father 
Lasse.  The  rag-bag  lay  near  him,  with  the  hook  stuck  into  it. 
He  was  clasping  the  book  with  one  hand,  while  with  the 
other  he  gesticulated  toward  the  windows  as  he  sang.  The 
song  made  the  people  smile,  and  he  tried  to  make  it  still 
more  amusing  by  violent  gestures  which  ill-suited  his  pitiful 
appearance. 

It  cut  Pelle  to  the  heart  to  see  his  wretched  condition.  He 
stepped  into  a  doorway  and  waited  until  his  father  should  have 
finished  his  song.  At  certain  points  in  the  course  of  the  song 
Lasse  took  off  his  cap  and  smacked  it  against  his  head  while 
he  raised  one  leg  in  the  air.  He  very  nearly  lost  his  equilibrium 
when  he  did  this,  and  the  street  urchins  who  surroimded  him 
pulled  at  his  ragged  coat-tails  and  pushed  one  another  against 
him.  Then  he  stood  still,  spoke  to  tiiem  in  his  quavering  voice, 
and  took  up  his  song  again. 


302  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

**0  listen  to  my  song,  a  tale  of  woe: 
I  came  Into  the  world  as  do  so  many : 
My  mother  bore  me  in  the  street  below. 
And  as  for  father,  why,  I  hadn't  any! 
Till  now  I've  faithfully  her  shame  concealed: 
I  tell  it  now  to  make  my  song  complete. 

0  drop  a  shilling  down  that  I  may  eat. 
For  eat  I  must,  or  soon  to  Death  I  yield. 

**lnto  this  world  without  deceit  I  came. 
That's  why  you  see  me  wear  no  stockings  now. 
A  poor  old  man  who  drudges  anyhow, 

1  have  a  wealthy  brother,  more's  the  shame. 
But  he  and  I  are  opposites  in  all; 

While  I  rake  muck  he  rakes  his  mon^  up: 
Much  gold  is  his  and  many  a  Jewelled  cup, 
And  all  he  fancies,  that  is  his  at  calL 

*^y  brother,  he  has  buUt  a  palace  splendid. 
And  silver  harness  all  his  horses  bear. 
Full  twenty  crowns  an  hour  he  gets,  I  hear. 
By  twiddling  thumbs  and  wishing  day  were  ended  I 
Gold  comes  to  him  as  dirt  to  Lasse,  blast  him ! 
And  everywhere  he  turns  there  money  lies. 
Twill  all  be  mine  when  once  my  brother  dies— 
If  I  but  live— so  help  me  to  outlast  him! 

'TjU^  tried  to  help  me  once,  but  not  again! 
Weary  with  toiU^  I  was  like  to  swoon. 
When  God  let  fall  milk-porridge  'stead  of  rain ! 
And  I,  poor  donkey,  hadn't  brought  a  spoon ! 
Tes,  Heaven  had  meant  to  help  me,  me  accurst ! 
I  saw  my  luck  but  couldn't  by  it  profit ! 
Quickly  my  brother  made  a  banquet  of  it — 
Ate  my  milk-porridge  till  he  nearly  burst ! 

^'Want  bears  the  sceptre  here  on  earth  below. 
And  life  is  always  grievous  to  the  poor. 
But  God,  who  nUes  the  world,  and  ought  to  know, 
Says  all  will  get  their  rights  when  life  is  o'er. 
Therefore,  good  people,  hear  me  for  His  sake — 
A  trifle  for  the  poor  man's  coffin  give, 
Wherein  his  final  journey  he  must  take; 
Have  mercy  on  my  end  while  yet  I  live! 

^et  one  thing  God  has  given  me — ^my  boy. 
And  children  are  the  poor  man's  wealth,  I  know. 
O  does  he  think  of  me,  my  only  Joy, 
Who  have  no  other  treasure  here  below? 
Long  time  have  we  be^i  parted  by  mishap : 
I'm  tired  of  picking  rags  and  sick  of  song; 
God  who  sees  all  reward  you  all  ere  long: 
O  drop  a  trifle  in  poor  Lasse's  capf* 


THE   GBEAT   STBUGGLB  303 

When  Lasse  had  finished  his  song  the  people  clapped  and 
threw  down  coins  wrapped  in  paper^  and  he  went  ronnd  picking 
them  np.  Then  he  took  his  sack  on  his  back  and  stamped  away^ 
bent  almost  double^  throngh  the  gateway. 

"Father  !**  cried  Pelle  desperately,    'Tather  !*» 

Lasse  stood  np  with  a  jerk  and  peered  throngh  the  gateway 
with  his  feeble  eyes.  'f[s  that  jou,  lad  ?  Ach,  it  soimded  like 
yonr  voice  when  you  were  a  child,  when  any  one  was  going  to 
hurt  you  and  you  came  to  me  for  help/*  The  old  man  was 
trembling  from  head  to  foot.  "And  now  I  suppose  you've  heard 
the  whole  thing  and  are  ashamed  of  your  old  father?^  He 
dared  not  look  at  his  son. 

"Father,  you  must  come  home  with  me  now— do  you  hear?' 
said  Pelle,  as  they  entered  the  street  together. 

'TTo,  that  I  canH  do!  There's  not  enough  even  for  your 
own  mouths — ^no,  you  must  let  me  go  my  own  way.  I  must 
look  after  myself — and  Pm  doing  quite  welL*' 

"You  are  to  come  home  with  me — ^the  children  miss  you, 
and  Ellen  asks  after  you  day  after  day.*' 

'TTes,  fliat  would  be  very  welcome.  .  .  .  But  I  know  what 
folks  would  think  if  I  were  to  take  the  food  out  of  your  chil- 
dren's mouths!  Besides — ^I'm  a  rag-picker  now!  No,  you 
mustn't  lead  me  into  temptation." 

"You  are  to  come  with  me  now — ^never  mind  about  anything 
else.    I  can't  bear  this,  father !" 

'^ell,  then,  in  Ood's  name,  I  must  publish  my  shame  before 
you,  lad — ^if  you  won't  let  me  be!  See  now,  I'm  living  with 
some  one — ^with  a  woman.  I  met  her  out  on  the  refuse-heaps, 
where  she  was  collecting  rubbish,  just  as  I  was.  I  had  arranged 
a  comer  for  myself  out  there — ^for  the  night,  until  I  could  find 
a  lodging — and  then  she  said  I  was  to  go  home  with  her — ^it 
wouldn't  be  so  cold  if  there  were  two  of  us.  Won't  you  come 
home  with  me,  so  that  you  can  see  where  we've  both  got  to? 
Then  you  can  see  the  whole  thing  and  judge  for  yourseU.  We 
live  quite  close." 

Thej  turned  into  a  narrow  lane  and  entered  a  gateway.  In 
the  backyard,  in  a  shed,  which  looked  like  the  remains  of  an 
old  farm  cottage,  was  Lasse's  home.  It  looked  as  though  it  had 
once  been  used  as  a  fuel-shed;  the  floor  was  of  beaten  earth  and 


304  PBLLE  THE   CONQUEBOB 

the  roof  consisted  of  loose  boards.  Under  the  roof  cords  were 
stretched,  on  which  rags,  paper,  and  other  articles  from  the 
dustbins  were  hung  to  dry.  In  one  comer  was  a  mean-looking 
iron  stove,  on  which  a  cofFee-pot  was  singing,  mingling  its  pleas- 
ant fragrance  with  the  musty  stench  of  the  rubbish.  Lasse 
stretched  himself  to  ease  his  limbs. 

''Ach,  I*m  quite  stiff  1*'  he  said,  ''and  a  little  chilled.  Well, 
here  you  see  my  little  mother — and  this  is  my  son,  Pelle,  my 
boy.''  He  contentedly  stroked  the  cheeks  of  his  new  life's 
partner. 

This  was  an  old,  bent,  withered  woman,  grimy  and  ragged ; 
her  face  was  covered  with  a  red  eruption  which  she  had  prob- 
ably contracted  on  the  refuse-heaps.  But  a  pair  of  kind  eyes 
looked  out  of  it,  which  made  up  for  everything  else. 

''So  that  is  Pelle!"  she  said,  looking  at  him.  "So  thafs 
what  he  is  like!  Yes,  one  has  heard  his  name;  he's  one  of 
those  who  will  astonish  the  world,  although  he  haoi't  red  hair." 

Pelle  had  to  drink  a  cup  of  cofFee.  "You  can  only  have 
bread-and-butter  with  it;  we  old  folks  cant  manage  anything 
else  for  supper,"  said  Lasse.  "We  go  to  bed  early,  both  of  us, 
and  one  sleeps  badly  with  an  over-full  stomach." 

'T^ell,  now,  what  do  you  think  of  our  home?"  said  Father 
Lasse,  looking  proudly  about  him.  "We  pay  only  four  kroner 
a  month  for  it,  and  aU  the  furniture  we  get  for  nofiung — 
mother  and  I  have  brought  it  all  here  from  the  refuse-heaps, 
every  stick  of  it,  even  the  stove.  Just  look  at  this  straw 
mattress,  now — ^if s  really  not  bad,  but  the  rich  folks  threw  it 
away  I  And  the  iron  bedstead — ^we  found  that  there ;  I've  tied 
a  leg  to  it.  And  yesterday  mother  came  in  carrying  those  cur- 
tains, and  hung  them  up.  A  good  thing  there  are  people  who 
have  so  much  that  they  have  to  throw  it  on  the  dust-heap  I" 

Lasse  was  quite  dieerful;  things  seemed  to  be  going  well 
with  him;  and  the  old  woman  looJ^  after  him  as  if  he  had 
been  the  bve  of  her  youth.  She  help^  him  off  with  his  boots 
and  on  with  his  list  slippers,  then  she  brought  a  long  pipe  out  of 
the  comer,  which  she  placed  between  his  lips;  he  smiled,  and 
settled  down  to  enjoy  himself. 

"Do  you  see  this  pipe,  Pelle?  Mother  saved  up  for  this, 
without  my  knowing  anything  about  it— she  has  got  such  a 


THE   GBBAT   STRUGGLE  305 

long  one  I  can't  light  it  myself  I  She  says  I  look  like  a  regular 
popeP  Lasse  had  to  lean  back  in  his  chair  while  she  lit  the 
pipe. 

When  Pelle  left^  Lasse  accompanied  him  across  the  yard. 
*Vell,  what  do  you  think  of  it?''  he  said. 

^  am  glad  to  see  things  are  going  so  well  with  you,"  said 
Pelle  humbly. 

Lasse  pressed  his  hand.  'Thanks  for  that!  I  was  afraid 
you  would  be  strict  about  it.  As  quite  a  little  boy,  you  used  to 
be  deucedly  strict  in  that  direction.  And  see  now,  of  course, 
we  could  marry — ^there  is  no  impediment  in  either  case.  But 
that  costs  money — and  the  times  are  hard.  As  for  children 
coming,  and  asking  to  be  brought  into  the  world  respectably, 
there's  no  danger  of  that." 

Pelle  could  not  help  smiling;  the  old  man  was  so  much  in 
earnest 

^'Lodk  in  on  us  again  soon — ^you  are  always  welcome,"  said 
Lasse.  ''But  you  needn't  say  anything  of  this  to  Ellen — she  is 
so  peculiar  in  that  respect!" 


NOy  Pelle  never  told  Ellen  anything  now.  She  had  frozen 
his  speech.  She  was  like  the  winter  sun;  the  side  that  was 
turned  away  from  her  received  no  share  of  her  warmth.  Pelle 
made  no  claims  on  her  now;  he  had  long  ago  satisfied  himself 
that  she  could  not  respond  to  the  strongest  side  of  his  nature^ 
and  he  had  accustomed  himself  to  the  idea  of  waging  his  fight 
alone.    This  had  made  him  harder^  but  also  more  of  a  man. 

At  home  the  children  were  ailing — they  did  not  receive 
proper  care^  and  the  little  girl  was  restless,  especially  during 
the  night.  The  complaining  and  coughing  of  the  children  made 
the  home  uncomfortable.  Ellen  was  dumb;  like  an  avenging 
fate  she  went  about  her  business  and  cared  for  the  children. 
Her  expressive  glance  never  encoimtered  his ;  although  he  often 
felt  that  her  eyes  were  resting  on  him.  She  had  grown  thin 
of  late,  which  lent  her  beauty,  a  fanatical  glow,  and  a  touch  of 
malice.  There  were  times  when  he  would  have  given  his  life 
for  an  honest,  burning  kiss  as  a  token  of  this  woman's  love. 

He  understood  her  less  and  less,  and  was  often  filled  with 
inexplicable  anxiety  concerning  her.  She  suffered  terribly 
through  tiie  condition  of  the  children;  and  when  she  quieted 
them,  with  a  bleeding  heart,  her  voice  had  a  fateful  sound  that 
made  him  shudder.  Sometimes  he  was  driven  home  by  the  idea 
that  she  might  have  made  away  with  herself  and  the  children. 

One  day,  when  he  had  hurried  home  with  this  impression 
in  his  mind,  she  met  him  smiling  and  laid  on  the  table  five  and 
twenty  kroner. 

^^What's  that?*'  asked  Pelle,  in  amazement 

^'ve  won  that  in  the  lottery  P  she  said. 

So  that  was  why  her  behavior  had  been  so  peculiarly  mys- 
terious during  the  last  few  days — as  though  there  had  been 


THE   GEEAT   STBUGGLE  307 

something  which  he  must  not  on  any  accoimt  get  to  know.  She 
had  yentored  her  last  shilling  and  was  afraid  he  wotdd  find 
it  out  I 

**But  where  did  you  get  the  money  ?**  he  asked. 

^  borrowed  it  from  my  old  friend,  Anna — we  went  in  for 
it  together.  Now  we  can  have  the  doctor  and  medicine  for  the 
children,  and  we  oursehes  can  have  anything  we  want,^  she 
said. 

This  money  worked  a  transformation  in  Ellen,  and  their 
relations  were  once  more  warmly  affectionate.  Ellen  was  more 
lovingly  tender  in  her  behavior  than  ever  before,  and  was  con- 
tinually spoiling  him.  Something  had  come  over  her  that  was 
quite  new;  her  manner  showed  a  sort  of  contrition,  which  made 
her  gentle  and  loving,  and  bound  Pelle  to  his  home  with  the 
bonds  of  ardent  desire.  Now  once  more  he  hurried  home.  He 
took  her  manner  to  be  an  apology  for  her  harsh  judgment  of 
him;  for  here,  too,  she  was  different,  and  began  to  interest  her- 
self in  his  work  for  the  Cause,  inciting  him,  by  aU  sorts  of  allu- 
sions, to  continue  it.  It  was  evident  that  in  spite  of  her  ap- 
parent coldness  she  had  kept  herself  well  informed  concerning 
it.  Her  manner  underwent  a  most  extraordinary  transforma- 
tion. She,  the  hard,  confident  Ellen,  became  mUd  and  imoer- 
tain  in  her  manner.  She  no  longer  kept  sourly  out  of  things, 
and  had  learned  to  bow  her  head  good-naturedly.  She  was  no 
longer  so  self-righteous. 

One  day,  toward  evening,  Pelle  was  sitting  at  home  before 
the  looking-glass,  and  shaving  himself;  he  had  cut  off  the  whole 
of  his  fine  big  moustache  and  was  now  shaving  off  the  last 
traces  of  it.  Ellen  was  amused  to  see  how  his  face  was  altered. 
^  can  scarcely  recognize  you  1^  she  said.  He  had  thought  she 
would  have  opposed  its  removal,  and  have  put  his  moustache 
before  the  Cause;  but  she  was  pleasant  about  the  whole  matter. 
He  could  not  at  all  understand  this  alteration  in  her. 

When  he  had  finished  he  stood  up  and  went  over  to  Young 
Lasse,  but  the  child  cried  out  in  terror.  Then  he  put  on  his 
old  working-clothes,  made  his  face  and  head  black,  and  made 
his  way  to  the  machine-works. 

The  factory  was  in  fuU  swing  now;  they  were  working 
alternate  shifts,  day  and  night,  with  the  help  of  interned  strike- 


308  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

breakers,  the  ^oeked-in'^  workers,  as  the  popular  wit  called 
them. 

The  iron-masters  had  followed  up  their  victory  and  had 
managed  to  set  yet  another  industry  in  motion  again.  If  this 
sort  of  thing  went  much  farther  the  entire  iron  industry  would 
one  day  be  operated  without  the  locked-out  workers,  who  could 
stand  outside  and  look  on.  But  now  a  blow  was  about  to  be 
struck  1  Pelle's  heart  was  full  of  warmth  and  joy  as  he  left 
hcone,  and  he  felt  equal  for  anything. 

He  slipped  through  the  pickets  unnoticed,  and  succeeded  in 
reaching  flw  door  of  the  factory.  'T^hey're  asleep— the  devils  P 
he  thought  angrily,  and  was  very  near  spoiling  fiie  whole  thing 
by  administering  a  reprimand.  He  knocked  softly  on  the  door 
and  was  admitted.  The  doorkeeper  took  him  to  ^e  foreman^ 
who  was  fortunately  a  German. 

Pelle  was  given  employment  in  the  foundry,  with  very  good 
wages.  He  was  also  promised  that  he  should  receive  a  bonus  of 
twenty-five  kroner  when  he  had  been  there  a  certain  time. 
'Thafs  the  Judas  money,''  said  the  foreman,  grinning.  ''And 
then  as  soon  as  the  lock-out  is  over  youll  of  course  be  placed  in 
the  forefront  of  the  workers.  Now  you  are  quite  clear  about  this 
— ^that  you  can't  get  out  of  here  until  then.  If  you  want  to  send 
scHnething  to  your  wife,  well  see  to  that" 

He  was  shown  to  a  comer  where  a  sack  full  of  straw  lay  on 
the  floor;  this  was  his  dwelling-place  and  his  refuge  for  the 
night 

In  the  factory  the  work  went  on  as  best  it  might  The  men 
rushed  at  their  work  as  in  a  frolic,  drifted  away  again,  lounged 
about  the  works,  or  stood  here  and  there  in  groups,  doing  as 
they  chose.  The  foremen  did  not  dare  to  speak  to  them;  if 
they  made  a  friendly  remark  they  were  met  with  insults.  The 
worikers  were  taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  they  were  indis- 
pensable ;  their  behavior  was  sheer  tyranny,  and  they  were  con- 
tinuaUy  harping  on  the  fact  that  lliey  would  just  as  soon  go 
as  stay.   These  words  made  them  the  masters  of  the  situation. 

Thffj  were  paid  big  wages  and  received  abundance  to  eat 
and  to  drink.  And  the  working  day  or  shift  was  shorter  than 
uBuaL  They  did  not  understand  the  real  significance  of  this 
diange  of  life,  but  went  about  playing  the  bully.    But  there 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  309 

was  a  peculiar  hesitation  visible  in  their  faces,  as  though  they 
were  not  quite  sure  of  one  another.  The  native  workers,  who 
were  in  the  minority,  kept  to  themselves — as  though  they  felt 
an  inward  contempt  for  those  fellows  who  had  travelled  so  far 
to  fish  in  the  troubled  waters  of  their  distress. 

They  were  working  three  shifts,  each  of  eight  hours'  dura- 
tion. 

''Oho  r  thought  Pelle,  ''why,  this,  good  God,  is  the  eight- 
hours*  day!  This  is  surely  the  State  of  the  future  1*'  At  the 
very  moment  of  his  arrival  one  shift  was  completed,  and  the 
men  immediately  proceeded  to  make  the  most  infernal  uproar, 
hammering  on  metal  and  shouting  for  food  and  brandy.  A 
huge  cauldron  full  of  beef  and  potatoes  was  dragged  in.  Pelle 
was  told  off  to  join  a  mess  of  ten  men. 

"Eat,  matey  P  they  said.  "Hungry,  ainH  you?  How  long 
had  you  been  out  of  work  before  you  gave  in?*' 

"Three  months,'*  said  Pelle. 

"Then  you  must  be  peckish.  Here  with  the  beef  I  More 
beef  here  1*'  they  cried,  to  the.  cook's  mate.  "You  can  keep  the 
potatoes  and  welcome!  We've  eaten  enough  potatoes  all  our 
lives  I" — ^"This  is  Tom  Tiddler's  land,  with  butter  sauce  into  the 
bargain !  This  is  how  we've  always  said  it  ought  to  be — good 
wages  and  little  to  do,  lots  to  eat  and  brandy  to  drink  1  Now 
you  can  see  it  was  a  good  thing  we  held  out  till  it  came  to  this 
— ^now  we  get  our  reward  I  Your  health  I  Here,  damme,  whaf  s 
your  name,  you  there  ?" 

"Karlsen,"  said  Pelle. 

"Here's  to  you,  Earlsen  I  Well,  and  how  are  things  looking 
outside?  Have  you  seen  my  wife  lately?  She's  easy  to  recog- 
nize— she's  a  woman  with  seven  children  with  nothing  inside 
their  ribs!    Well,  how  goes  it  with  the  strikers?" 

After  eating  they  sat  about  playing  cards,  and  drinking,  or 
they  loafed  about  and  began  to  quarrel;  they  were  a  sharp- 
tongued  crew;  they  went  about  actuated  by  a  malicious  longing 
to  sting  one  another.  "Come  and  have  a  game  with  us,  mate — 
and  have  a  drink !"  they  cried  to  Pelle.  "Damn  it  all,  how  else 
should  a  man  kill  the  time  in  this  infernal  place?  Sixteen 
hours'  sleep  a  day — ^no,  thaf  s  more  than  a  chap  can  do  with  1" 

There  was  a  deafening  uproar,  as  though  tiie  place  had  be^i 


310  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOB 

a  vast  tavern,  with  men  shouting  and  abusing  one  another;  each 
contributed  to  the  din  as  though  he  wanted  to  drown  it  by  his 
own  voice.  They  were  able  to  buy  drink  in  the  factory,  and  they 
drank  what  they  earned.  'That's  their  conscience/'  thought 
Pelle.  ''At  heart  they  are  good  comrades.''  There  seemed  to  be 
some  hope  of  success  for  his  audacious  maneuver.  A  group  of 
Germans  took  no  part  in  the  orgy,  but  had  set  up  a  separate 
colony  in  the  remotest  comer  of  tiie  hall.  They  were  there  to 
make  money  1 

In  one  of  the  groups  a  dispute  broke  out  between  the  players ; 
they  were  reviling  one  another  in  no  measured  language,  and 
their  terms  of  abuse  culminated  in  the  term  "strike-breaker." 
This  made  them  perfectly  furious.  It  was  as  though  an  abscess 
had  broken;  all  their  bottled-up  shame  and  anger  concerning 
their  infamous  position  burst  forth.  They  began  to  use  knives 
and  tools  on  one  another.  The  police,  who  kept  watch  on  the 
factory  day  and  night,  were  called  in,  and  restored  tranquillity. 
A  woimded  smith  was  bandaged  in  the  o£Sce,  but  no  arrest  was 
made.    Then  a  sudden  slackness  overcame  them. 

They  constantly  crowded  round  Pelle.  He  was  a  new  man; 
he  came  from  outside.  "How  are  things  going  out  there?"  was 
the  constant  question. 

'TPhings  are  going  very  well  out  there.  If  s  a  worse  look- 
out for  us  in  here,"  said  Pelle. 

^Going  very  well,  are  they?  We've  been  told  they  are  near 
giving  in." 

"Who  told  you  that?" 

"The  bosses  of  the  factory  here." 

"Then  they  were  fooling  you,  in  order  to  keep  you  here." 

"Thaf  s  a  lie  I  And  what  d'you  mean  by  saying  it's  a  worse 
look-out  for  us?    Out  with  it,  nowl" 

"We  shall  never  get  regular  work  again.  The  comrades  are 
winning — and  when  they  begin  work  again  they'll  demand  that 
we  others  shall  be  locked  out." 

"The  devil — and  they've  promised  us  the  best  positions!" 
cried  a  great  smith.  "But  you're  a  liar  1  That  you  are !  And 
why  did  you  come  here  if  they  are  nearly  winning  outside?  An- 
swer me,  damn  it  all !  A  man  doesn't  come  slinking  into  this 
hell  unless  he's  compelled  I" 


THE    GREAT   STRUGGLE  311 

'To  leave  his  comrades  in  the  lurch,  you  might  add/'  replied 
PeUe  harshly.  ^T.  wanted  to  see  how  it  feels  to  strike  the  bread 
away  from  the  mouths  of  the  starving/' 

'That* s  a  lie !  No  one  would  be  so  wicked  I  You  are  making 
fools  of  us,  you  devil  !*' 

**Give  him  a  thrashing,'*  said  another.  **He'B  playing  a 
crooked  game.  Are  you  a  spy,  or  what  do  you  want  here?  Do 
you  belong  to  those  idiots  outside?" 

It  had  b^n  Pelle's  plan  to  put  a  good  face  on  a  crooked 
job,  and  cautiously  to  feel  his  way;  but  now  he  grew  angry. 

'TTou  had  better  think  what  you're  doing  before  you  call 
honorable  men  idiots,"  he  retorted  violently.  ^T)o  you  know 
what  you  are  ?  Swine !  You  lie  there  eating  your  fill  and  pour- 
ing the  drink  down  your  throats  and  living  easy  on  the  need  of 
your  comrades!  Swine,  that  you  are — Judases,  who  have  sold 
a  good  cause  for  dirty  money!  How  much  did  you  get?  Five 
and  twenty  kroner,  eh?  And  out  there  they  are  loyally  starv- 
ing, so  that  all  of  us — ^yes,  you  too— can  live  a  little  more  like 
human  beings  in  the  future !" 

'TTou  hold  your  jaw  I"  said  the  big  smith.  'TTou've  no  wife 
and  children — ^you  can  easily  talk!" 

''Aren't  you  the  fellow  who  lives  in  tiaegersborg  Street?" 
Pelle  demanded.  'Terhaps  you  are  sending  what  you  earn  to 
your  wife  and  children  ?  Then  why  are,  they  in  want  ?  Yester- 
day they  were  turned  out  of  doors;  the  organization  took  them 
in  and  f  oimd  a  roof  to  go  over  their  heads — although  they  werQ 
a  strike-breaker's  family  I"   Pelle  himself  had  made  this  possible. 

''Send — damn  and  blast  it  all — ^I'U  send  them  something! 
But  if  one  lives  this  hell  of  a  life  in  here  the  bit  of  money  one 
earns  all  goes  in  rot-gut!  And  now  you're  going  to  get  a 
thrashing!"  The  smith  turned  up  his  diirt-sleeves  so  that  his 
mighty  muscles  were  revealed.  He  was  no  longer  reasonable, 
but  glared  at  Pelle  like  an  angry  bull. 

"Wait  a  bit,"  said  an  older  man,  stepping  up  to  Pelle.  "I 
think  Fve  seen  you  before.  What  is  your  real  name,  if  I  may 
make  bold  to  ask?" 

"My  name  ?    You  are  welcome  to  know  it.    I  am  Pelle." 

This  name  produced  an  effect  like  that  of  an  explosion. 
They  were. dazzled.    The  smith's  arms  fell  slack;  he  turned  his 


312  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

head  aside  in  shame.  Pelle  was  among  them!  They  had  left 
him  in  the  lurch^  had  tamed  their  backs  on  him^  and  now  he 
stood  there  laughing  at  them^  not  the  least  bit  angry  with  them. 
What  was  more^  he  had  called  them  comrades;  so  he  did  not 
despise  them  I  'Telle  is  here  V^  they  said  quietly ;  farther  and 
farther  spread  the  news,  and  their  tongues  dwelt  curiously  on 
his  name.  A  murmur  ran  through  the  shops.  ''What  the  devil 
— ^has  Pelle  come?''  they  cried,  stumbling  to  their  legs. 

Pelle  had  leaped  onto  a  great  anvil.  "Silence !''  he  cried,  in 
a  voice  of  thunder;  "silence  1''  And  there  was  silence  in  the 
great  building.    The  men  could  hear  their  own  deep  breathing. 

The  foremen  came  rushing  up  and  attempted  to  drag  him 
down.    'TTou  canH  make  speeches  here  l**  they  cried. 

"Let  him  speak !''  said  the  big  smith  threateningly.  "You 
aren't  big  .enough  to  stop  his  mouth,  not  by  a  long  chalk  l''^  He 
seized  a  hammer  and  stationed  himself  at  the  foot  of  the  anviL 

"Comrades!"  Pelle  began,  in  an  easy  tone,  "I  have  been 
sent  here  to  you  with  greetings  from  those  outside  there — ^from 
the  comrades  who  used  to  stand  next  to  you  at  work,  from  your 
friends  and  fellow-unionists.  Where  are  our  old  comrades? — 
they  are  asking.  We  have  fought  so  many  battles  by  their  side, 
we  have  shared  good  and  evil  with  them — are  we  to  enter  into 
the  new  conditions  without  them  ?  And  your  wives  and  children 
are  asking  after  you!  Outside  there  it  is  the  spring!  They 
don't  understand  why  they  can't  pack  the  picnic  basket  and  go 
out  into  the  forest  with  father !" 

"No,  there's  no  picnic  basket!"  said  a  heavy  voice. 

"There  are  fifty  thousand  men  accepting  the  situation  with- 
out grumbling,"  Pelle  earnestly  replied.  "And  they  are  asking 
after  you — ^they  don't  understand  why  you  demand  more  than 
they  do.  Have  you  done  more  for  the  movement  than  they 
have? — they  ask.  Or  are  you  a  lot  of  dukes,  that  you  can't 
quietly  stand  by  the  rank  and  file  ?  And  now  if  s  the  spring  out 
tiierel"  he  cried  once  more.  "The  poor  man's  vnnter  is  past, 
and  the  bright  day  is  coming  for  him  I  And  here  you  go  over  to 
the  wrong  side  and  walk  into  prison !  Do  you  kiiow  what  the 
locked-out  workers  call  you?  They  call  you  the  locked-in 
workers  I" 

There  were  a  few  suppressed  smiles  at  this.    "Thaf  s  a  dam' 


THE   GBEAT   STEUGGLE  313 

good  emack  I^'  they  told  one  another,  '^e  made  that  np  him- 
self P 

'*They  have  other  names  for  us  as  welll*'  cried  a  voice 
defiantly. 

'TTes,  they  have/'  said  Pelle  vigorously.  ^'But  that's  becauaa 
they  are  hungry.  People  get  unreasonable  then,  you  know  very 
well — and  they  grudge  other  folks  their  food  1'' 

They  thronged  about  him^  pressing  closer  and  closer.  His 
words  were  scorching  them^  yet  were  doing  them  good.  No  oaae 
could  hit  out  like  Pelle^  and  yet  at  the  same  time  make  them 
feel  that  they  were  decent  fellows  after  all.  The  foreign  workers 
stood  roxmd  about  them,  eagerly  listening,  in  order  thai  they, 
too,  might  catch  a  little  of  what  was  said. 

Pelle  had  suddenly  plunged  into  the  subject  of  the  faminej 
laying  bare  the  year-long,  endless  despair  of  their  families,  so 
that  they  all  saw  what  the  others  had  suffered — saw  really  for 
the  first  time.  They  were  amazed  that  they  could  have  endured 
80  much,  but'they  knew  that  it  was  so;  they  nodded  continually, 
in  agreement;  it  was  all  literally  tme.  It  was  Pelle's  own  des- 
perate struggle  that  was  speaking  through  him  now,  but  the 
refrain  of  steering  ran  through  it  all.  He  stood  before  them 
radiant  and  confident  of  victory,  towering  indomitably  over 
tiiem  alL 

Gradually  his  words  became  ke^i  and  vigorous.  He  re- 
proached them  with  their  disbyalty;  he  reminded  them  how 
dearly  and  bitterly  they  had  bought  the  power  of  cohesion,  and 
in  brief,  striking  phrases  he  awakened  the  inspiriting  rh3rthm 
of  the  Cause,  that  lay  slumbering  in  every  heart.  It  was  the 
old,  beloved  music,  tiie  well-known  melody  of  the  home  and 
labor.  Pelle  sounded  it  with  a  new  accent.  Like  all  those  that 
forsake  their  country,  they  had  forgotten  the  voice  of  their 
mother — ^that  was  why  they  could  not  find  their  way  home;  but 
now  she  was  calling  them,  calling  them  back  to  the  old  dream 
of  a  Land  of  Fortune !  He  could  see  it  in  their  faces,  and  with 
a  leap  he  was  at  them:  'fDo  you  know  of  anything  more  in- 
famous than  to  sell  your  mother-country?  That  is  what  you 
have  done — ^before  ever  you  set  foot  in  it — ^you  have  sold  it, 
with  your  brothers,  your  wives,  and  your  children  1  You  have 
foresworn  your  religion — ^your  faith  in  the  great  Cause!    You 


314  PELLE  THE   CONQTTEEOB 

have  disobeyed  orders,  and  have  sold  yonrselyes  for  a  miserable 
Judas-price  and  a  keg  of  brandy  1*' 

He  stood  with  his  left  hand  on  the  big  smith's  shotdder,  his 
right  hand  he  clenched  and  held  out  toward  them.  In  that  hand 
he  was  holding  them;  he  felt  that  so  strongly  that  he  did  not 
dare  to  let  it  sink,  but  continued  to  hold  it  outstretched.  A 
murmuring  wave  passed  through  the  ranks,  reaching  even  to  the 
foreign  workers.  They  were  infected  by  the  emotion  of  the 
others,  and  followed  the  proceedings  wifii  tense  attentiom,  al- 
though they  did  not  understand  much  of  the  language.  At  each 
sally  they  nodded  and  nudged  one  another,  until  now  they  stood 
there  motionless,  with  expectant  faces;  they,  too,  were  under 
the  speU  of  his  words.  This  was  solidarity,  the  mighty,  earth- 
encircling  power  I  Pelle  recognized  the  look  of  wonder  on  their 
faces;  a  cold  shudder  ran  up  and  down  his  spine.  He  held 
them  all  in  his  hand,  and  now  the  blow  was  to  be  struck  before 
they  had  time  to  think  matters  over.    Now  I 

^Comrades  !^  he  cried  loudly.  ^T.  told  those  outside  that  you 
were  honorable  men,  who  had  been  led  into  the  devil's  kitchen 
by  want,  and  in  a  moment  of  misunderstanding.  And  I  am 
going  in  to  fetch  your  friends  and  comrades  out,  I  said.  They 
are  longing  to  come  out  to  you  again,  to  come  out  into  the 
spring!    Did  I  lie  when  I  spoke  well  of  you?*' 

*^o,  that  you  didn't  I"  they  replied,  with  one  voice.  'TPhree 
cheers  for  Pelle  I    Three  cheers  for  Tjightning*  1" 

"Come  along,  thenl"  Swiftly  he  leaped  down  from  the 
anvil  and  marched  through  the  workshop,  roaring  out  the  So- 
cialist marching-song.  They  followed  him  without  a  moment's 
consideration,  without  regret  or  remorse;  the  rhythm  of  the 
march  had  seized  them ;  it  was  as  though  the  warm  spring  wind 
were  blowing  them  out  into  the  freedom  of  Nature.  The  door 
was  unlocked,  the  officials  of  the  factory  were  pushed  aside. 
Singing  in  a  booming  rhythm  that  seemed  to  revenge  itself  for 
the  long  days  of  confinement,  they  marched  out  into  North 
Bridge  Street,  with  Pelle  at  their  head,  and  turned  into  the 
Ijabor  Building. 


That  was  a  glorions  stroke !  The  employers  abandoned  all 
further  idea  of  running  the  works  without  the  Federation.  The 
victory  was  the  completer  in  that  the  trades  imions  gave  the 
foreign  workers  their  passage-money^  and  sent  them  off  before 
they  had  time  for  reflection.  They  were  escorted  to  the  steam- 
ers, and  the  workers  saw  them  off  with  a  comradely  ''Hurrah  1*' 

Pelle  was  the  hero  of  the  day.  His  doings  were  discussed 
in  all  the  newspapers,  and  even  his  opponents  lowered  their 
swords  before  him. 

He  took  it  all  as  a  matter  of  course;  he  was  striving  with  all 
his  might  toward  a  fresh  goal.  There  was  no  excuse  for  soaring 
into  the  clouds;  the  lock-out  was  still  the  principal  fact,  and  a 
grievous  and  burdensome  fact,  and  now  he  was  feeling  its  whole 
weight.  The  armies  of  workers  were  still  sauntering  about  the 
streets,  while  the  nation  was  consuming  its  own  strength,  and 
there  was  no  immediate  prospect  of  a  settlement.  But  one  day 
the  springs  would  run  dry — and  what  then? 

He  was  too  deeply  immersed  in  the  conflict  to  grow  dizzy 
by  reason  of  a  littie  flattery;  and  the  general  opinion  more 
than  ever  laid  the  responsibility  for  the  situation  on  him.  If 
this  terrible  struggle  should  end  in  defeat,  then  his  would  be 
the  blame  I  And  l^e  racked  his  brains  to  find  a  means  of  break- 
ing dovm  the  opposition  of  the  enemy.  The  masses  were  still 
enduring  the  conditions  with  patience,  but  how  much  longer 
would  this  last?  Humors,  which  intended  mischief,  were  flying 
about;  one  day  it  was  said  that  one  of  the  leaders,  who  had  been 
entrusted  with  making  collections,  had  run  off  with  the  cash- 
box  ;  while  another  rumor  declared  that  the  whole  body  of  work- 
sis 


316  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOE 

ere  had  been  sold  to  the  employers !    Something  must  happen  1 

But  what? 

0  m  m  m  m 

One  afternoon  he  went  home  to  see  his  family  before  going 
to  a  meeting.  The  children  were  alone.  ''Where  is  mother  ?**  he 
asked^  taking  Young  Lasse  on  his  knee.  Little  Sister  was  sit- 
ting upright  in  her  cradle^  playing. 

"Mother  made  herself  fine  and  went  out  into  the  city,**  re- 
plied the  child.    '^Mother  so  fine  !** 

*'So?  Was  she  so  fine?*'  Pelle  went  into  the  bed-room;  he 
looked  into  the  wardrobe.    Ellen*s  wedding-dress  was  not  there. 

'That  is  curious/*  he  thought,  and  began  to  play  with  the 
children.  The  little  girl  stretched  her  tiny  arms  toward  him. 
He  had  to  take  her  up  and  sit  with  a  child  on  either  knee.  The 
little  girl  kept  on  picking  at  his  upper  lip,  as  though  she  wanted 
to  say  something.  "Yes,  father's  moustache  has  fallen  off.  Little 
Sister,**  said  Young  Lasse,  in  explanation. 

"Yes,  it  has  fiown  away,**  said  Pelle.  "There  came  a  wind 
and — phew  I — away  it  went  1**  He  looked  into  the  glass  with  a 
little  grimace — ^that  moustache  had  been  his  pride!  Then  he 
laughed  at  the  children. 

Ellen  came  home  breathless,  as  though  she  had  been  run- 
ning; a  tender  rosiness  lay  over  her  face  and  throat.  She  went 
into  the  bedroom  with  her  cloak  on.  Pelle  followed  her.  "You 
have  your  wedding-dress  on,**  he  said  wonderingly. 

"Yes,  I  wanted  something  done  to  it,  so  I  went  to  the  dress- 
maker, so  that  she  could  see  the  dress  on  me.  But  run  out  now, 
1*11  come  directly ;  I  only  want  to  put  another  dress  on.** 

Pelle  wanted  to  stay,  but  she  pushed  him  toward  the  door. 
"Bun  away  I**  she  said,  pulling  her  dress  across  her  bosom.  The 
taider  red  had  spread  all  over  her  bosom — she  was  so  beautiful 
in  her  confusion  I 

After  a  time  she  came  into  the  living-room  and  laid  some 
notes  on  the  table  before  him. 

"What*s  this  again  ?**  he  cried,  half  startled  by  the  siglit  of 
all  this  money. 

"Yes,  haven*t  I  wonderful  luck?  I*ve  won  in  the  lottery 
again!  Haven*t  you  a  clever  wife?**  She  was  standing  behind 
him  with  her  arm  across  his  shoulders. 


THE   GREAT   STEUGGLE  817 

Pelle  sat  there  for  a  moment^  bowed  down  as  though  he 
had  received  a  blow  on  the  head.  Then  he  pushed  her  arm  aside 
and  turned  round  to  her.  'TTon  have  won  again  already,  you 
say?  Twice?  Twice  running?*'  He  spoke  slowly  and  monot- 
onously, as  though  he  wanted  to  let  every  word  sink  in. 

'TTes ;  don*t  you  think  if  s  very  clever  of  me  P'  She  looked 
at  him  uncertainly  and  attempted  to  smile. 

**But  that  is  quite  impossible!*'  he  said  heavily.  **That  is 
quite  impossible  I*'  Suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  seizing  her 
by  the  throat.  'TTou  are  lying  1  You  are  lying!*'  he  cried, 
raging.  ''Will  you  tell  me  the  truth?  Out  with  it!**  He 
pressed  her  back  over  the  table,  as  though  he  meant  to  kill  her. 
Young  Lasse  began  to  cry. 

She  stared  at  him  with  wondering  eyes,  which  were  full  of 
increasing  terror.  He  released  her  and  averted  his  face  in  order 
not  to  see  those  eyes ;  they  were  full  of  the  fear  of  death.  She 
made  no  attempt  to  rise,  but  fixed  him  with  an  intolerable  gaze, 
like  that  of  a  beast  that  is  about  to  be  killed  and  does  not  biow 
why.  He  rose,  and  went  silently  over  to  the  children,  and 
buJBied  himself  in  quieting  them.  He  had  a  horrible  feeling  in 
his  hands,  almost  as  when  once  in  his  childhood  he  had  killed 
a  young  bird.  Otherwise  he  had  no  feeling,  except  that  every- 
thing was  so  loathsome.  It  was  the  fault  of  the  situation  •  •  • 
and  now  he  would  go. 

He  realized,  as  he  packed  his  things,  that  she  was  standing 
by  the  table,  crying  softly.  He  realized  it  quite  suddenly,  but  it 
was  no  concern  of  his.  .  .  .  When  he  was  ready  and  had  kissed 
the  children,  a  shudder  ran  through  her  body ;  she  stepped  before 
him  in  her  old  energetic  way. 

'TDon't  leave  me — you  mustn't  leave  me  1"  she  said,  sobbing. 
*'0h — ^I  only  wanted  to  do  what  was  best  for  you — and  you 
didn't  see  after  anything.  No,  thaf s  not  a  reproach — but  our 
daily  bread,  Pelle  I  For  you  and  the  children  I  I  could  no 
longer  look  on  and  see  you  go  without  everything— especially 
you — Pelle !  I  love  you  so !  It  was  out  of  love  for  you — above 
all,  out  of  love  for  you  1" 

It  sounded  like  a  song  in  his  ears,  like  a  strange,  remote  re- 
frain; the  words  he  did  not  hear.  He  put  her  gently  aside, 
kissed  the  boy  once  more,  and  stroked  his  face.    Ellen  stood  as 


318  PELLB   THE   CONQTJEBOB 

though  dead,  g&zmg  at  his  movements  with  staring,  bewildered 
eyes.    When  he  went  ont  to  the  door  she  collapsed. 

Pelle  left  his  belongings  downstairs  with  the  mangling- 
woman,  and  he  went  mechanically  toward  the  city ;  he  heard  no 
Boxmd,  no  echo;  he  went  as  one  asleep.  His  feet  carried  him 
toward  the  Labor  House,  and  np  the  stairs,  into  the  room  whence 
the  campaign  was  directed.  He  took  his  place  among  the  others 
wiihont  knowing  what  he  did,  and  there  he  sat,  gazing  down  at 
the  green  table-cloth. 

The  general  mood  diowed  signs  of  dejection.  For  a  long 
time  now  the  bottom  of  the  cash-box  had  been  visible,  and  as 
more  and  more  workers  were  turned  into  the  street  the  product 
of  self-imposed  taxation  was  gradually  declining.  And  the 
readiness  of  those  outside  the  movement  to  make  sacrifices  was 
rapidly  beginning  to  fail.  The  public  had  now  had  enough  of 
the  affair.  Everything  was  failing,  now  they  would  have  to 
see  if  they  could  not  come  to  some  arrangement.  Starvation  was 
beginning  to  thrust  its  grinning  head  among  the  fifty  thousand 
men  now  idle.  The  moment  had  come  upon  which  capital  was 
counting;  the  moment  when  the  crying  of  children  for  bread 
begins  to  break  the  will  of  the  workers,  until  they  are  ready  to 
sacrifice  honor  and  independence  in  order  to  satisfy  the  little 
creatures'  hxuiger.  And  the  enemy  showed  no  sign  of  wishing 
for  peace  I 

This  knowledge  had  laid  its  mark  on  all  the  members  of 
the  Council;  and  as  they  sat  there  they  knew  that  the  weal  or 
woe  of  hundreds  of  thousands  depended  on  them.  No  one  dared 
accept  the  responsibility  of  making  a  bold  proposal  in  this  di- 
rection or  that.  With  things  as  they  stood,  they  would  have,  in 
a  week  or  two,  to  give  up  the  fight !  Then  nearly  a  quarter  of 
a  million  human  beings  would  have  suffered  torment  for  noth- 
ing I  A  terrible  apathy  would  be  the  result  of  that  suffering  and 
of  the  defeat;  it  would  put  them  back  many  years.  But  if  the 
employers  could  not  long  withstand  the  pressure  which  the  finan- 
cial world  was  beginning  to  exert  on  them,  they  would  be  throw- 
ing away  the  victory  if  they  gave  up  the  fight  now. 

The  cleverest  calculations  were  useless  here.  A  blind,  mon- 
strous Pate  would  prevail.  Who  could  say  that  he  had  lifted  the 
voil  of  the  future  and  could  point  out  the  way? 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  319 

No  one !  And  Pelle^  the  blazing  torch^  who  had  shown  them 
the  road  regardless  of  all  else — ^he  sat  there  drowsing  as  though 
it  meant  nothing  to  him  I  *  Apparently  he  had  broken  down 
under  his  monstrous  labors. 

The  secretary  came  in  with  a  newspaper  marked  with  red 
pencil.  He  passed  it  to  the  chairman^  who  stared  for  a  while 
at  the  underlined  portion^  then  he  rose  and  read  it  out;  the 
paper  was  quivering  in  his  hands. 

"About  thirty  working  women — ^young  and  of  good  ap- 
pearance— can  during  the  lock-out  find  a  home  with  various 
bachelors.  Good  treatment  guaranteed.  The  oflBce  of  the  paper 
will  give  further  information.** 

Pelle  sprang  up  out  of  his  half -slumber;  the  horrible  catas- 
trophe of  his  own  home  was  blindingly  clear  now!  "So  ifs 
come  to  that!**  he  cried.  "Now  capital  has  laid  its  fingers  on 
our  wives — ^now  they  are  to  turn  whore!  We  must  fight  on, 
fighty  fight !  We  must  strike  one  last  blow — and  it  must  be  a 
heavy  one!** 

'^ut  how?**  they  asked. 

Pelle  was  white  with  enforced  calm.  His  mind  had  never 
been  so  radiantly  clear.  Now  Ellen  should  be  revenged  on 
those  who  took  everything,  even  the  poor  man*s  one  ewe 
lamb! 

*Tn  the  first  place  we  must  issue  an  optimistic  report — ^this 
very  day  !**  he  said,  smiling.  ^Tllie  cash-box  is  nearly  empty — 
good!  Then  we  will  state  that  the  workers  have  abundant 
means  to  carry  on  the  fight  for  another  year  if  need  be,  and 
then  we*ll  go  for  them  !** 

Bom  of  anger,  an  old,  forgotten  phantasy  had  fiashed  into 
his  mind  as  a  definite  plan. 

"Hitherto  we  have  fought  passively,**  he  continued,  "with 
patience  as  our  chief  weapon!  We  have  opposed  our  necessi- 
ties of  life  to  the  luxuries  of  the  other  side;  and  if  they  strike 
at  us  in  order  to  starve  us  to  skin  and  bone  and  empty  our 
homes  of  our  last  possessions,  we  answered  them  by  refusing 
to  do  the  work  which  was  necessary  to  their  comfort!  Let  us 
for  once  strike  at  their  vital  necessities!  Let  us  strike  them 
where  they  have  struck  us  from  the  beginning !  In  the  belly ! 
Then  perhaps  they*ll  turn  submissive !    Hitherto  we  have  kept 


320  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

tiie  most  important  of  the  workers  out  of  tiie  conflict — those 
on  whom  the  health  and  welfare  of  the  public  depend,  although 
we  ourselves  have  benefited  nothing  thereby.  Why  should  we 
bake  their  bread  ?  We,  who  haven't  the  means  to  eat  it !  Why 
should  we  look  after  their  cleanliness?  We,  who  haven^  the 
means  to  keep  ourselves  clean !  Let  ns  bring  the  dustmen  and 
the  street-deaners  into  the  line  of  fire  1  And  if  that  isn't  enough 
well  torn  off  their  gas  and  waterl  Let  ns  venture  our  last 
penny — ^let  us  strike  the  last  blow  !*' 

Pelle's  proposal  was  adopted,  and  he  went  westward  imme- 
diately to  the  president  of  the  Scavengers'  Union.  He  had  just 
got  up  and  was  sitting  down  to  his  midday  meaL  He  was  a 
small,  comfortable  little  man,  who  had  always  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye;  he  came  from  the  coal  country.  Pelle  had  helped  him  at 
one  time  to  get  his  organization  into  working  order,  and  he 
knew  that  he  could  count  on  him  and  his  men. 

^o  you  remember  still,  how  I  once  showed  you  that  you 
are  the  most  important  workers  in  the  city,  Lars  Hansen?" 

The  president  nodded.  '^Tes,  one  would  have  to  be  a  pretty 
sort  of  fool  to  forget  that  I  No,  as  long  as  I  live  I  shall  never 
forget  the  effect  your  words  had  on  us  despised  scavengers !  It 
was  you  who  gave  us  faith  in  ourselves,  and  an  organization  I 
And  even  if  we  aren't  quite  the  most  important  people, 
still '' 

'^ut  thaf  s  just  what  you  are — and  now  if  s  your  turn  to 
prove  itl    Could  you  suspend  work  this  night?" 

Lars  Hansen  sat  gazing  thoughtfully  into  the  lamp  while  he 
chewed  his  food.  "Our  relations  with  tiie  city  are  rather  in 
the  nature  of  a  contract,"  he  said  slowly  and  at  length.  'They 
could  punish  us  for  it,  and  compel  us  to  resume  work.  But  if 
you  want  it,  irrespective,  why  of  course  well  do  it.  There  can 
be  only  one  view  as  to  that  among  comrades !  What  you  may 
gain  by  it  you  yourself  know  best." 

'Thanks !"  said  Pelle,  holding  out  his  hand.  'Then  that  is 
settled — ^no  more  carts  go  out.  And  we  must  bring  the  street- 
cleaners  to  a  standstill  too!" 

'Then  the  authorities  will  put  other  men  on — ^there  are 
plenty  to  be  found  for  that  work." 

^Tbey  wont  do  that— or  well  put  a  stop  to  it  if  they  do!" 


THE   OBEAT   STBUGGLB  321 

'That  sounds  all  rightl  It^  be  a  nasty  business  for  the 
swells !  Ifs  all  the  same  to  the  poor^  they  haven't  anything  to 
eat  But  suppose  the  soldiers  are  ordered  to  do  it  I  S<kvei^ing 
must  be  done  if  the  city  isn't  to  become  pestilential  I'' 

A  flash  of  intelligence  crossed  Pelle's  face,  ^^ow  listen, 
comrade  I  When  you  stop  working,  deliver  up  all  the  keys,  so 
that  the  authorities  can't  touch  you!  Only  put  them  all  in  a 
sack  and  give  them  a  good  shake-up  \^ 

Lars  Hansen  broke  into  a  resoimding  laugh.  That  will  be 
the  deuce  of  a  joke  I"  he  groaned,  smaddng  his  thighs.  Then 
they'll  have  to  come  to  us,  for  no  one  else  will  be  able  to  sort 
them  out  again  so  quickly  1  111  take  them  the  keys  myself— 111 
go  upstairs  as  innocent  as  anything  P 

Pelle  thanked  him  again,    ^^oull  save  the  whole  Cause," 

he  said  quietly,    '^f s  ti^e  bread  and  the  future  happiness  of 

many  thousands  that  you  are  now  holding  in  your  hands."    He 

smiled  brightly  and  took  his  leave.    As  soon  as  he  was  alone 

his  smile  faded  and  an  expression  of  deathly  weariness  took  its 

place. 

m  m  0  0  m  m 

Pelle  walked  the  streets,  strolling  hither  and  thither.  Now 
all  was  settled.  There  was  nothing  more  to  strive  for.  Every- 
thing within  him  seemed  broken;  he  had  not  even  strength  to 
decide  what  he  should  do  with  himself.  He  walked  on  and  on, 
came  out  into  the  High  Street,  and  turned  off  again  into  the 
side  streets.  Over  the  way,  in  ilie  Colonial  Stores,  he  saw  Earl^ 
smiling  and  active,  behind  the  coimter  serving  customers.  '?ou 
ought  really  to  go  in  and  ask  him  how  he's  getting  on,"  he 
thought,  but  he  strolled  on.  Once,  before  a  tenement-house,  he 
halted  and  involuntarily  looked  up.  No,  he  had  already  done 
his  business  here — ^this  was  where  the  president  of  the  Scav- 
engers' Union  lived.  No,  the  day's  work  was  over  now— he 
would  go  home  to  Ellen  and  the  children  I 

Home  ?  No  home  for  him  now — ^he  was  forsaken  and  alone  I 
And  yet  he  went  toward  the  north;  which  road  he  went  by  he 
did  not  know,  but  after  a  time  he  found  himself  standing  before 
his  own  door  and  staring  at  the  rusty  little  letter  box.  Within 
there  was  a  soimd  of  weeping;  he  could  hear  Ellen  moving  to 
and  fro,  preparing  eveiyllung  for  the  night.    Then  he  turned 


322  PELLB  THE   CONQUEEOR 

and  hastened  away,  and  did  not  breathe  easily  until  he  had 
turned  the  comer  of  the  street. 

He  tamed  again  and  again^  from  one  side  street  into  an- 
other. Inside  his  head  everytbing  seemed  to  be  going  ronnd, 
and  at  every  step  he  felt  as  if  it  would  crack.  Suddenly  he 
seemed  to  hear  hasty  but  familiar  steps  behind  him.  EUenl 
He  turned  round ;  there  was  no  one  there.  So  it  was  an  illusion  I 
But  the  steps  began  again  as  soon  as  he  went  on.  There  was 
something  about  those  steps — it  was  as  though  they  wanted  to 
say  something  to  him;  he  could  hear  plainly  that  they  wanted 
to  catch  up  with  him.  He  stopped  suddenly — ^there  was  no 
one  there,  and  no  one  emerged  from  the  darkness  of  the 
side  streets. 

Were  these  strange  footsteps  in  his  own  mind,  then?  Pelle 
found  them  incomprehensible;  his  heart  began  to  thump;  his 
terrible  exhaustion  had  made  him  helpless.  And  Ellen — ^what 
was  the  matter  with  her?  That  reproachful  weeping  sounded 
in  his  ears!  Understand — ^what  was  he  to  understand?  She 
had  done  it  out  of  love,  she  had  said  f  Ugh — away  with  it  all  1 
He  was  too  weary  to  justify  her  offence. 

But  what  sort  of  wanderer  was  this?  Now  the  footsteps 
were  keeping  time  with  his  now;  they  had  a  double  sound. 
And  when  he  thought,  another  creature  answered  to  him,  from 
deep  within  him.  There  was  something  persistent  about  this, 
as  there  was  in  Morten's  influence ;  an  opinion  that  made  its  way 
through  all  obstacles,  even  when  reduced  to  silence.  What  was 
wanted  of  him  now — ^hadn't  he  worked  loyally  enough  ?  Was  he 
not  Pelle,  who  had  conducted  the  great  campaign?  Pelle,  to 
whom  all  looked  up?  But  there  was  no  joy  in  the  thought 
now;  he  could  not  now  hear  the  march  of  his  fifty  thousand 
comrades  in  his  own  footsteps !  He  was  left  in  the  lurch,  left 
alone  with  this  accursed  Something  here  in  the  deserted  streets 
— and  loneliness  had  come  up<m  him!  ^ou  are  afraid!''  he 
thought,  with  a  bitter  laugh. 

But  he  did  not  wish  to  be  alone;  and  he  listened  intently. 
The  conflict  had  taken  all  that«he  possessed.  So  there  was  a 
community — ^mournful  as  it  was — ^between  him  and  the  misery 
around  him  here.    What  had  he  to  complain  of? 

The  city  of  the  poor  lay  about  him,  terrible,  ravaged  by  the 


THE   GREAT   STETJGGLE  323 

battle  of  tmemployment — a  city  of  weepings  and  cold^  and  dark- 
ness, and  want  I  From  the  back  premises  sounded  the  crying  of 
children — ^they  were  crying  for  bread,  he  knew — ^while  drunken 
men  staggered  round  tiie  comers,  and  the  screaming  of  women 
sounded  from  the  back  rooms  and  the  back  yards.  Ugh — ^this 
was  Hell  already  I    Thank  God,  victory  was  near ! 

Somewhere  he  could  plainly  hear  voices;  children  were  cry- 
ing, and  a  woman,  who  was  moving  to  and  fro  in  the  room,  was 
soothing  them,  and  was  lulling  the  youngest  to  sleep — ^no  doubt 
she  had  it  in  her  arms.  It  all  came  down  to  him  so  distinctly 
that  he  looked  up.  There  were  no  windows  in  the  apartment  I 
They  were  to  be  driven  out  by  the  cold,  he  thought  indig- 
nantly, and  he  ran  up  the  stairs;  he  was  accustomed  to  taking 
the  unfortunate  by  surprise. 

^The  landlord  has  taken  out  the  doors  and  windows;  he 
wanted  to  turn  us  into  the  street,  but  we  aren't  going,  for 
where  should  we  go  ?    So  he  wants  to  drive  us  out  through  the 

cold — ^like  the  bugs  I    They've  driven  my  husband  to  death ^ 

Suddenly  she  recognized  Pelle.  "So  if  s  you,  you  accursed 
devil  I'*  she  cried.  *T[t  was  you  yourself  who  set  him  on  I  Per- 
haps you  remember  how  he  used  to  drink  out  of  the  bottle? 
Formerly  he  always  used  to  behave  himself  properly.  And  you 
saw,  too,  how  we  were  turned  out  of  St.  Hans  Street — ^the 
tenants  forced  us  to  go — didn't  you  see  that  ?  Oh,  you  torturer  I 
You've  followed  him  everywhere,  hxmted  him  like  a  wild  beast, 
taunted  him  and  tormented  him  to  death  I  When  he  went  into 
a  tavern  the  others  would  stand  away  from  him,  and  the  land- 
lord had  to  ask  him  to  go.  But  he  had  more  sense  of  honor 
than  you  I  ^'m  infected  with  the  plague!'  he  said,  and  one 
morning  he  hanged  himself.  Ah,  if  I  could  pray  the  good  God 
to  smite  you  1"    She  was  tearless;  her  voice  was  dry  and  hoarse. 

'TTou  have  no  need  to  do  that,"  replied  Pelle  bitterly.  **He 
has  smitten  me  I  But  I  never  wished  your  husband  any  harm; 
both  times,  when  I  met  him,  I  tried  to  help  him.  We  have  to 
suffer  for  the  benefit  of  all — ^my  own  happiness  is  shattered  into 
fragments."    He  suddenly  found  relief  in  tears. 

*Tliey  just  ought  to  see  that — ^the  working  men — ^Pelle  cry- 
ing! Then  they  wouldn't  shout  'Hurrah!'  when  he  appears!" 
she  cried  scomf uUy. 


824  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

'1  have  still  ten  kroner — ^will  yon  take  tfaem?^  said  Pelle^ 
handing  her  the  money. 

She  took  it  hesitating.  'Ton  mnst  need  that  for  yonr  wife 
and  children — ^that  mnst  be  yonr  share  of  yonr  strike  pay  I'' 

^  have  no  wife  and  children  now.    Take  itl'' 

^Good  God  1  Has  yonr  home  gone  to  pieces  too?  Conldn't 
even  Pelle  keep  it  together  ?  WeU,  well,  ifs  only  natural  that 
he  who  sows  should  reap  1'^ 

Pelle  went  his  way  without  replying.  The  unjust  judgment 
of  this  woman  depressed  him  more  tiian  the  applause  of  thou- 
sands would  have  pleased  him.  But  it  aroused  a  violent  mental 
protest.  Where  she  had  struck  him  he  was  invulnerable;  he 
had  not  been  looking  after  his  own  trivial  affairs;  but  had 
justly  and  honorably  served  the  great  Cause,  and  had  led  the 
people  to  victory.  The  wounded  and  the  fallen  had  no  right 
to  abuse  him.  He  had  lost  more  than  any  one — ^he  had  lost 
everything! 

With  care-laden  hearty  but  curiously  cahn,  he  went  toward 
the  North  Bridge  and  rented  a  room  in  a  cheap  lodging  house. 


Thb  flnal  instructions  issued  to  the  workers  aroused  ternbla 
indignation  in  the  city.  At  one  blow  the  entire  public  was  set 
against  them;  the  press  was  furious^  and  full  of  threats  and 
warnings.  Even  the  independent  journal  considered  that  the 
workers  had  infringed  the  laws  of  human  civilization.  But 
The  Working  Mm  quietly  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
conflict  was  a  matter  of  life  or  death  for  the  lower  classes.  Hiey 
were  ready  to  proceed  to  extremities;  they  still  had  it  in  their 
power  to  cut  off  the  water  and  gas — ^the  means  of  the  capital^B 
commercial  and  physical  life  I 

Then  the  tide  set  in  against  the  employers.  Something  had 
to  give  somewhere  I  And  what  was  the  real  motive  of  the  con- 
flict? Merely  a  question  of  power!  They  wanted  to  have  the 
sole  voice — ^to  have  their  workers  bound  hand  and  foot.  The 
financiers^  who  stood  at  the  back  of  the  big  employers,  had  had 
enough  of  the  whole  affair.  It  would  be  an  expensive  game  first 
and  last,  and  there  Vould  be  little  profit  in  destroying  the 
cohesion  of  the  workers  if  the  various  industries  were  ruined  at 
the  same  time. 

Pelle  saw  how  the  crisis  was  approaching  while  he  wandered 
about  the  lesser  streets  in  search  of  Father  Lasse.  Now  the 
Cause  was  progressing  by  its  own  momentum,  and  he  could  rest. 
An  unending  strain  was  at  last  lifted  from  his  shoulders,  and 
now  he  wanted  time  to  gather  together  the  remnants  of  his  own 
happiness — and  at  last  to  do  something  for  one  who  had  alwajrs 
sacrificed  himself  for  him.  Now  he  and  Lasse  would  find  a 
home  together,  and  resume  the  old  life  in  company  together;  he 
rejoiced  at  the  thought.  Father  Lasse's  nature  never  cladied 
with  his;  he  had  always  stood  by  him  through  everything;  his 
love  was  like  a  mother's. 

Lasse  was  no  longer  living  in  his  lair  behind  Baker  Street. 

tn 


326  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

The  old  woman  with  whom  he  was  liying  had  died  shortly  before 
this^  and  Lasse  had  then  disappeared. 

Pelle  eontinnecl  to  ask  after  him,  and^  well  known  as  he 
was  among  the  poor^  it  was  not  difScuIt  for  him  to  follow  the 
old  man's  traces,  which  gradnally  led  him  out  to  Kristianshavn. 
During  his  iiu^ries  he  encountered  a  great  deal  of  misery, 
which  delayed  him.  Now^  when  the  battle  was  fighting  itself 
to  a  conclusion^  he  was  everywhere  confronted  by  need^  and  his 
old  compassion  welled  np  in  his  heart.  He  helped  where  he 
could,  finding  remedies  with  his  nsnal  energy. 

Lasse  had  not  been  to  the  ''Ark''  itself ,  bnt  some  one  there 
had  seen  him  in  the  streets,  in  a  deplorable  condition;  where 
he  lived  no  one  knew.  ''Have  yon  looked  in  the  cellar  of  the 
Merchant's  House  over  yonder  ?"  the  old  night  watchman  asked 
him.  ^Ifany  live  there  in  these  hard  times.  Every  morning 
about  six  o'clock  I  lock  the  cellar  up,  and  then  I  call  down  and 
warn  them  so  that  they  shan't  be  pinched.  If  I  happen  to  turn 
away,  then  they  come  slinking  up.  It  seems  to  me  I  heard  of 
an  old  man  who  was  said  to  be  lying  down  there,  but  I'm  not 
sure,  for  I've  wadding  in  my  ears;  I'm  obliged  to  in  my  calling, 
in  order  not  to  hear  too  much  I"  He  went  to  the  place  with 
PeUe. 

The  Merchant's  House,  which  in  the  eighteenth  century  was 
the  palace  of  one  of  the  great  mercantile  families  of  Kristian- 
shavn, was  now  used  as  a  granary ;  it  lay  fronting  on  one  of  the 
canals.  The  deep  cellars,  which  were  entirely  below  the  level 
of  the  canal,  were  now  empty.  It  was  pitch  dark  down  there, 
and  impracticable ;  the  damp  air  seemed  to  gnaw  at  one's  vocal 
cords.  They  took  a  light  and  explored  among  the  pillars,  find- 
ing here  and  there  places  where  people  had  lain  on  straw. 
"There  is  no  one  here,"  said  the  watchman.  Pelle  called,  and 
heard  a  feeble  sound  as  of  one  clearing  his  throat.  Far  back  in 
the  cellars,  in  one  of  the  cavities  in  the  wall,  Father  Lasse  was 
lying  on  a  mattress.  "Yes,  here  I  lie,  waiting  for  death,"  he 
whispered.  'TCt  won't  last  much  longer  now;  the  rats  have 
begun  to  sniff  about  me  already."  The  cold,  damp  air  had  taken 
his  voice  away. 

He  was  altogether  in  a  pitiful  condition,  but  the  sight  of 
Pelle  put  life  into  him  in  so  far  as  he  was  able  to  stand  on  his 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  327 

feet  They  took  him  over  to  the  "Ark/'  the  old  night  watch- 
man giving  up  his  room  and  going  up  to  Widow  Johnsen;  there 
he  slept  in  the  daytime^  and  at  night  went  about  his  duties;  a 
possible  arrangement^  although  there  was  only  one  bed. 

When  Lasse  was  put  into  a  warm  bed  he  lay  there  shivering; 
and  he  was  not  quite  clear  in  his  mind.  Pelle  warmed  some  beer; 
the  old  man  must  go  through  a  sweating  cure;  from  time  to 
time  he  sat  on  the  bed  and  gazed  anxiously  at  his  father.  Lasse 
lay  there  with  his  teeth  chattering;  he  had  closed  his  eyes;  now 
and  again  he  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not. 

The  warm  drink  helped  him  a  little,  and  the  blood  flowed 
once  more  into  his  dead,  icy  hands,  and  his  voice  returned. 

*T)o  you  think  we  are  going  to  have  a  hard  winter?*'  he  said 
suddenly,  turning  on  his  side. 

''We  are  going  on  toward  the  summer  now,  dear  father,'' 
Pelle  replied.   ''But  you  must  not  lie  with  your  back  uncovered." 

"I'm  so  terribly  cold — almost  as  cold  as  I  was  in  winter; 
I  wouldn't  care  to  go  through  that  again.  It  got  into  my  spine 
so.    Good  God,  the  poor  folks  who  are  at  sea !" 

"You  needn't  worry  about  them — ^you  just  think  about  get- 
ting well  again;  to-day  we've  got  the  sunshine  and  ifs  fine 
weather  at  sea  I" 

"Let  a  little  sunshine  in  here  to  me^  then,"  said  Lasse 
peevishly. 

"There's  a  great  wall  in  front  of  the  window,  father,"  said 
Pelle,  bending  down  over  him. 

"Well,  well,  it'll  soon  be  over,  the  little  time  thaf  s  still  left 
me!  Ifs  all  the  same  to  the  night  watchman — ^he  wakes  all 
night  and  yet  he  doesn't  see  the  sim.  That  is  truly  a  curious 
calling!  But  it  is  good  that  some  one  should  watch  over  us 
while  we  sleep."    Lasse  rocked  his  head  restlessly  to  and  fro. 

"Yes,  otherwise  they'd  come  by  night  and  steal  our  money," 
said  Pelle  jestingly. 

"Yes,  that  they  would !"  Lasse  tried  to  laugh.  "And  how 
are  things  going  with  you,  lad?" 

"The  negotiations  are  proceeding;  yesterday  we  held  the 
first  meeting." 

Lasse  laughed  until  his  throat  rattled.  "So  the  fine  folks 
couldn't  stomach  the  smell  any  longer!    Yes,  yes,  I  heard  the 


828  PELLB  THE   CONQUEEOB 

news  of  that  when  I  was  lying  ill  down  there  in  fhe  darkness. 
At  nighty  when  the  others  came  creeping  in,  they  told  me 
about  it;  we  langhed  properly  over  that  idea  of  yonrs.  But 
onghtnt  you  to  be  at  your  meeting?'' 

**No,  I  have  excused  myself — ^I  don't  want  to  sit  there 
squabbling  about  the  ending  of  a  sentence.  Now  Fm  going 
to  be  with  you^  and  then  well  both  make  ourselves  comfortable." 

^  am  afraid  we  shan't  have  much  more  joy  of  one  another^ 
lad!" 

^ut  you  are  quite  jolly  again  now.  To-morrow  you  will 
see-' — ^" 

^Ah,  no  I  Death  doesn't  play  false.  I  couldnt  stand  that 
cenar." 

''Why  did  you  do  it,  father  ?  You  knew  your  place  at  home 
was  waiting  for  you." 

'TTes,  you  must  forgive  my  obstinacy,  Pelle.  But  I  was 
too  old  to  be  able  to  help  in  Ihe  fight,  and  then  I  thought  at 
least  you  won't  lay  a  burden  on  them  so  long  as  this  lasts  I  So 
in  that  way  I  have  borne  my  share.  And  do  you  really  believe 
that  something  will  come  of  it?" 

'^es,  we  are  winning — and  then  the  new  times  will  begin 
for  the  poor  man !" 

^es,  yes;  I've  no  part  in  such  fine  things  now  I  It  was 
as  though  one  served  the  wicked  goblin  that  stands  over  the 
door:  Work  to-day,  eat  to-morrow  I  And  to-morrow  never 
came.  What  kindness  I've  known  has  been  from  my  own  people ; 
a  poor  bird  will  puU  out  its  own  feathers  to  cover  anoiher. 
But  I  can't  complain;  I  have  had  bad  days,  but  there  sie  folks 
who  have  had  worse.  And  the  women  have  always  been  good 
to  me.  Bengta  was  a  grumbler,  but  she  meant  it  kindly;  Slama 
sacrificed  money  and  health  to  me — Ood  be  thanked  tiiat  she 
didnt  live  after  they  took  the  farm  from  me.  For  I've  been 
a  landowner  too;  I  had  almost  forgotten  that  in  all  my  miseryl 
Tes,  and  old  lise — ^Begging  Lise,  as  they  called  her — die  shared 
bed  and  board  with  mel  She  died  of  starvation,  smart  though 
she  was.  Would  you  believe  that?  'Eat!'  she  used  to  say;  Ve 
have  food  enough !'  And  I,  old  devil,  I  ate  the  last  crust,  and 
suspected  nothing,  and  in  the  morning  she  was  lying  dead  and 
cold  at  my  side !    There  was  not  a  scrap  of  fiesh  on  her  whole 


THE  6BEAT  STBUGGLB  3S9 

body;  nothing  but  skin  over  dry  bones.  But  she  was  one  of 
God's  angels  1  We  nsed  to  sing  together,  she  and  I.  Ach,  poor 
people  take  the  bread  out  of  one  another's  mouths  1" 

Lasse  lay  for  a  time  sunk  in  memories,  and  b^;an  to  ting, 
with  the  gestures  he  had  employed  in  the  courtyard*  Pelle 
held  him  down  and  endeavored  to  bring  him  to  reason,  but  the 
old  man  thought  he  was  dealing  with  the  street  urchins.  Wh^ 
he  came  to  the  verse  which  spoke  of  his  son  he  wept. 

''Dont  cry,  father!''  said  Pelle,  quite  beside  himself,  and 
he  laid  his  heavy  head  against  that  of  the  old  man.  ^  am 
with  you  again  I" 

Lasse  lay  still  for  a  time,  blinking  his  eyes,  with  his  hand 
groping  to  and  fro  over  his  son's  face. 

^es,  you  are  really  here,"  he  said  faintly,  ^and  I  thought 
you  had  gone  away  again.  Do  you  know  what,  Pelle  P  You 
have  been  the  whole  light  of  my  Ufet  When  you  came  into  the 
world  I  was  already  past  the  best  of  my  years;  but  then  you 
came,  and  it  was  as  though  the  sun  had  been  bom  anew  I  'What 
may  he  not  bring  with  him?'  I  used  to  think,  and  I  held  my 
head  high  in  the  air.  You  were  no  bigger  than  a  pint  bottle  I 
Terhaps  hell  make  his  fortune,'  I  thought,  'and  tiien  therell 
be  a  bit  of  luck  for  you  as  weU!'  So  I  thought,  and  so  I've 
always  believed — ^but  now  I  must  give  it  up.  But  I've  lived  to 
see  you  respected.  Tou  havent  become  a  rich  man — ^well,  that 
need  not  matter;  but  the  poor  speak  well  of  yout  You  have 
fought  their  battles  for  them  without  taking  anything  to  fill 
your  own  belly.  Now  I  understand  it,  and  my  old  heart  re- 
joices that  you  are  my  son  I" 

When  Lasse  fell  asleep  Pelle  lay  on  tiie  sofa  for  a  while. 
But  he  did  not  rest  long;  the  old  man  slept  like  a  bird,  opening 
his  eyes  every  moment.  If  he  did  not  see  his  son  dose  to  his 
bed  he  lay  tossing  from  side  to  side  and  complaining  in  a  half- 
(dumber.  In  the  middle  of  the  night  he  raised  his  hcttd  and  held 
it  up  in  a  listening  attitude.    Pelle  awoke. 

''What  do  you  want,  father?"  he  asked,*  as  he  tumbled  onto 
his  feet 

"Ach,  I  can  hear  something  flowing,  &r  out  ymder,  beyond 
the  aea-line.  ...  It  is  as  though  the  water  were  pouring  into 
the  abyss.   But  oughtn't  you  to  go  home  to  Ellen  now?   I  shall 


330  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

be  all  right  alone  overnight,  and  perhaps  she's  sitting  worrying 
as  to  where  you  are.*' 

^Ve  sent  to  Ellen  to  tell  her  that  I  shouldn't  be  home  over- 
night,'' said  Pelle. 

The  old  man  lay  considering  his  son  with  a  pondering  glance. 
^Are  yon  happy,  too,  now?"  he  asked,  ^t  seems  to  me  as 
though  there  is  something  about  your  marriage  that  ought 
not  to  be." 

^es,  father,  if s  quite  all  right,"  Pelle  replied  in  a  half- 
choking  voice. 

^^ell,  Ood  be  thanked  for  that!  You've  got  a  good  wife 
in  Ellen,  and  she  has  given  you  splendid  children.  How  is 
Young  Lasse?  I  should  dearly  like  to  see  him  again  before  I 
go  from  here — ^there  will  still  be  a  Lasse  I" 

^11  bring  him  to  you  early  in  the  morning,"  said  PeUe. 
''And  now*  you  ought  to  see  if  you  cant  sleep  a  little,  father. 
It  is  pitch  dark  still!" 

Lasse  turned  himself  submissively  toward  the  walL  Once 
he  cautiously  turned  his  head  to  see  if  Pelle  was  sleeping;  his 
eyes  could  not  see  across  the  room,  so  he  attempted  to  get  out 
of  bed,  but  fell  back  with  a  groan. 

''What  is  it,  father?"  cried  Pelle  anxiously,  and  he  was 
beside  him  in  a  moment. 

"I  only  wanted  just  to  see  that  you'd  got  something  over 
you  in  this  cold !  But  my  old  limbs  won't  bear  me  any  more," 
said  the  old  man,  with  a  shamefaced  expression. 

Toward  morning  he  fell  into  a  quiet  sleep,  and  Pelle  brought 
Madam  Johnson  to  sit  with  the  old  man,  while  he  went  home 
for  Young  Lasse.  It  was  no  easy  thing  to  do ;  but  the  last  wish 
of  the  old  man  must  be  granted.  And  he  knew  that  Ellen 
would  not  entrust  the  child  to  strange  hands. 

Ellen's  frozen  expression  lit  up  as  he  came ;  an  exclamation 
of  joy  rose  to  her  lips,  but  the  sight  of  his  face  killed  it.  "My 
father  lies  dying,"  he  said  sadly — ^e  very  much  wants  to  see 
the  boy."  She  nodded  and  quietly  busied  herself  in  making 
the  child  ready.    Pelle  stood  at  the  window  gazing  out. 

It  seemed  very  strange  to  him  that  he  should  be  here  once 
more;  the  memory  of  the  little  household  rose  to  his  mind  and 
made  him  weak.    He  must  see  Little  Sister!    Ellen  led  him 


THl?   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  331 

silently  into  the  bedroom;  the  child  was  sleeping  in  her  cradle; 
a  deep  and  wonderful  peace  brooded  over  her  bright  head.  Ellen 
seemed  to  be  nearer  to  him  in  this  room  here;  he  felt  her  com- 
pelling eyes  upon  him.  He  pnUed  himself  forcibly  together 
and  went  into  the  other  room — ^he  had  nothing  more  to  do  there. 
He  was  a  stranger  in  this  home.  A  thought  occurred  to  him — 
whether  she  was  going  on  with  tJiatf  Although  it  was  nothing 
to  )dm,  the  question  would  not  be  suppressed;  and  he  looked 
about  him  for  some  sign  that  might  be  significant.  It  was  a 
poverty-stricken  place;  everything  superfluous  had  vanished. 
But  a  shoemaker's  sewing  machine  had  made  its  appearance, 
and  there  was  work  on  it.  Strike-breaking  work!  he  thought 
mechanically.  But  not  disgraceful— for  the  first  time  he  was 
glad  to  discover  a  case  of  strike-breaking.  She  had  also*  begun 
to  take  in  sewing — and  she  looked  thoroughly  overworked*,  ^s 
gave  him  downright,  pleasure. 

"The  boy  is  ready  to  go  with  you  now,"  she  said. 

Pelle  cast  a  farewell  glance  over  the  room,  ^^s  there  any« 
thing  you  need  ?"  he  asked. 

**Thanks — ^I  can  look  after  myself/*  she  replied  proudly. 

^ou  didn't  take  the  money  I  sent  you  on  Saturday  P 

^T.  can  manage  myself — ^if  I  can  only  keep  the  boy.  Don% 
forget  that  you  told  me  once  he  should  always  stay  with  me." 

^e  must  have  a  mother  who  can  look  him  in  the  face- 
remember  that,  Ellen  1" 

^TTou  needn't  remind  me  of  that,"  she  replied  bitterly. 

Lasse  was  awake  when  they  arrived,  '^h,  thaf  s  a  genuine 
Karlsen!"  he  said,  '^e  takes  after  our  family.  Look  now^ 
Pelle,  boy  I  He  has  the  same  prominent  ears,  and  he's  got  the 
lucky  curl  on  his  forehead  too!  Hell  make  his  way  in  the 
world!  I  must  kiss  his  little  hands — ^for  the  hands,  they  are 
our  blessing — ^the  only  possession  we  come  into  the  world  with. 
They  say  the  world  will  be  lifted  up  by  the  hands  of  poor;  I 
should  like  to  know  whether  that  will  be  sol  I  should  like 
to  know  whether  the  new  times  will  come  soon  now.  If  s  a  pity 
after  all  that  I  shan't  live  to  see  it  I" 

"You  may  very  weU  be  alive  to  see  it  yet,  father,"  said 
Pelle,  who  on  the-  way  had  bought  The  Working  Man,  and  was 
now  eagerly  reading  it.    "They  are  going  ahead  in  full  force. 


332  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOE 

and  in  the  next  few  days  the  fight  will  be  oyer!  Then  we^ 
both  settle  down  and  be  jolly  together  1'^ 

^0^  I  shan't  live  to  see  that  I  Death  has  taken  hold  of 
me;  he  will  soon  snatch  me  away.  Bnt  if  there's  anything 
after  it  all,  it  would  be  fine  if  I  conld  sit  np  there  and  watch 
yonr  good  fortune  coming  true.  Yon  have  travelled  the  difficult 
way,  Pelle — ^Lasse  is  not  stupid!  Bnt  perhaps  youll  be  re- 
warded by  a  good  position,  if  yon  take  over  the  leadership 
yourself  now.  But  then  you  must  see  that  you  dont  forget 
the  poor  !'* 

'Thafs  a  long  way  off  yet,  father  I  And  then  there  won't 
be  any  more  poor  I" 

^ou  say  that  so  certainly,  but  poverty  is  not  so  easily  dealt 
with — ^it  has  eaten  its  way  in  too  deep  I  Young  Lasse  will  per- 
haps be  a  grown  man  before  that  comes  about.  But  now  you 
must  take  the  boy  away,  for  it  isnt  good  that  he  should  see  how 
the  old  die.  He  looks  so  pale— does  he  get  out  into  the  sun 
properly?" 

''The  rich  have  borrowed  the  sun — and  theyVe  forgotten  to 
pay  it  back,"  said  Pelle  bitterly. 

Lasse  raised  his  head  in  the  air,  as  though  he  were  striving 
against  something,  '^es,  yes!  It  needs  good  eyes  to  look  into 
the  future,  and  mine  wont  serve  me  any  longer.  But  now  you 
must  go  and  take  the  boy  with  you.  ijid  you  mustn't  neglect 
your  stairs,  you  can't  outwit  death,  however  clever  you  may  be." 
He  laid  his  withered  hand  on  Young  Lasso's  head  and  turned 
his  &oe  to  the  walL 

Pelle  got  Madam  Johnson  to  take  the  boy  home  again,  so 
that  he  himself  could  remain  with  the  old  man.  Their  paths 
had  of  late  years  lain  so  little  together ;  they  had  forever  be^ 
meeting  and  then  leading  far  apart  He  felt  the  need  of  a 
lingering  farewell.  While  he  moved  to  and  fro,  and  lit  a  fire 
to  warm  up  some  food,  and  did  what  he  could  to  make  Father 
Lasse  comfortable,  he  listened  to  the  old  man's  desultory  speech 
and  let  himself  drift  back  into  the  careless  days  of  childhood. 
Like  a  deep,  tender  murmur,  like  the  voice  of  the  earth  itself, 
Lasse's  monotonous  speech  renewed  his  childhood;  and  as  it 
continued,  it  became  the  never-silent  speech  of  the  many  con- 
cerning the  conditions  of  life.    Now,  in  silence  he  turned  again 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  333 

from  the  thousands  to  Father  Lasse^  and  saw  how  great  a  world 
this  tender-hearted  old  man  had  supported.  He  had  always 
been  old  and  worn-out  so  long  as  Pelle  could  remember.  Labor 
so  soon  robs  the  poor  man  of  his  youth  and  makes  his  age  so 
long!  But  this  very  frailty  endowed  him  with  a  superhuman 
power — ^that  of  the  father !  He  had  borne  his  poverty  greatly, 
without  becoming  wicked  or  self-seeking  or  narrow;  his  heart 
had  always  been  full  of  the  cheerfulness  of  sacrifice,  and  full  of 
tenderness;  he  had  been  strong  even  in  his  impotence.  Like  the 
Heavenly  Father  Himself,  he  had  encompassed  Pelle's  whole  ex- 
istence with  his  warm  affection,  and  it  would  be  terrible  indeed 
when  his  kindly  speech  was  no  longer  audible  at  the  back  of 
everything. 

His  departing  soul  hovered  in  ever-expanding  circles  over 
the  way  along  which  he  had  travelled — ^like  the  doves  when  they 
migrate.  Each  time  he  had  recovered  a  little  strength  he  took 
up  the  tale  of  his  life  anew.  'There  has  always  been  something 
to  rejoice  over,  you  know,  but  much  of  it  has  been  only  an  aim- 
less struggle.  In  the  days  when  I  knew  no  better  I  managed 
well  enough;  but  from  the  moment  when  you  were  bom  my  old 
mind  b^an  to  look  to  the  future,  and  I  couldnt  feel  at  peace 
any  more.  There  was  something  about  you  that  seemed  like  an 
omen,  and  since  then  it  has  always  studc  in  my  mind ;  and  my 
intentions  have  been  restless,  like  the  Jerusalem  shoemaker's. 
It  was  as  though  something  had  suddenly  given  me — ^poor  louse  I 
— the  promise  of  a  more  beautiful  life;  and  the  memory  of  that 
kept  on  running  in  my  mind.  Is  it  perhaps  the  longing  for 
Paradise,  out  of  which  they  drove  us  once  ? — ^I  used  to  think.  If 
youll  believe  me,  I,  poor  old  blunderer  as  I  am,  have  had  splen- 
did dreams  of  a  beautiful,  care-free  old  age,  when  my  son,  with 
his  wife  and  children,  would  come  and  visit  me  in  my  own  cozy 
room,  where  I  could  entertain  them  a  little  with  everything  neat 
and  tidy.  I  didnt  give  up  hoping  for  it  even  right  at  the  end. 
I  used  to  go  about  dreaming  of  a  treasure  which  I  should  find 
out  on  the  refuse-heaps.  Ah,  I  did  so  want  to  be  able  to  leave 
you  something!  I  have  been  able  to  do  so  miserably  little  for 
you.*' 

''And  you  say  that,  who  have  been  father  and  mother  to  me? 
During  my  whole  childhood  you  stood  behind  everything,  pro- 


334  PELLB   THE   CONQTJEBOE 

tecting  me ;  if  anything  happened  to  me  I  always  used  to  think : 
'Father  Lasse  will  soon  set  that  right  V  And  when  I  grew  np  I 
found  in  everything  that  I  nndertook  that  you  were  helping  me 
to  raise  myself.  It  would  have  gone  but  ill  indeed  with  every- 
thing if  you  hadn't  given  me  such  a  good  inheritance  V* 

'T)o  you  say  that?**  cried  Lasse  proudly.  ''Shall  I  truly 
have  done  my  share  in  what  you  have  done  for  the  Cause  of  the 
poor?  Ah,  that  sounds  good,  in  any  easel  No,  but  you  have 
been  my  life,  my  boy,  and  I  used  to  wonder,  poof  weak  man  as  I 
was,  to  see  how  great  my  strength  was  in  you !  What  I  scarcely 
dared  to  think  of  even,  you  have  had  the  power  to  do  I  And 
now  here  I  lie,  and  have  not  even  the  strength  to  die.  You  must 
promise  me  that  you  won't  burden  yourself  on  my  account  with 
anything  that's  beyond  your  ability — you  must  leave  the  matter 
to  the  poor-law  authorities.  I've  kept  myself  clear  of  them  till 
now,  but  it  was  only  my  stupid  pride.  The  poor  man  and  the 
poor-laws  belong  together  after  all.  I  have  learned  lately  to  look 
at  many  things  differently;  and  it  is  good  that  I  am  dying — 
otherwise  I  should  soon  be  alive  and  thinking  but  have  no  power. 
If  these  ideas  had  come  to  me  in  the  strength  of  my  youtii  per- 
haps I  should  have  done  something  violent  I  hadn't  your  pru- 
dence and  intelligence,  to  be  able  to  carry  eggs  in  a  hop- 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  there  was  a  change  in 
Lasse,  although  it  was  not  easy  to  say  where  the  alteration  lay. 
Pelle  sat  at  the  bedside  reading  the  last  issue  of  The  Working 
Man,  when  he  noticed  that  Lasse  was  gazing  at  him.  ''Is  there 
any  news?"  he  asked  faintly. 

"The  negotiations  are  proceeding,"  said  Pelle,  "but  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  agree  upon  a  basis.  .  .  .  Several  times  everything 
has  been  on  the  point  of  breaking  down." 

'TCfs  dragging  out  such  a  long  time,"  said  Lasse  dejectedly ; 
"and  I  shall  die  to-day,  Pelle.  There  is  something  restless  in- 
side me,  although  I  should  dearly  like  to  rest  a  little.  It  is 
curious,  how  we  wander  about  trying  to  obtain  something  dif- 
ferent to  what  we  have !  As  a  little  boy  at  home  in  Tommelilla 
I  used  to  run  round  a  well;  I  used  to  run  like  one  possessed,  and 
I  believed  if  I  only  ran  properly  I  should  be  able  to  catch  my 
own  heels !    And  now  I've  done  it;  for  now  tiiere  is  always  some 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  336 

one  in  front  of  me,  so  that  I  can't  go  f orward,  and  ifs  old  Lasse 
himself  who  is  stopping  the  way !  I  am  always  thinking  I  must 
overtake  him,  but  I  can't  find  my  old  views  of  the  world  again, 
they  have  altered  so.  On  the  night  when  the  big  employers 
declared  the  lock-out  I  was  standing  out  there  among  the  many 
thousands  of  other  poor  folks,  listening.  They  were  toasting 
the  resolution  with  champagne,  and  cheering,  and  there  my 
opinions  were  changed!  Ifs  strange  how  things  are  in  this 
world.  Down  in  the  granary  cellar  there  lay  a  mason  who  had 
built  one  of  the  finest  palaces  in  the  capital,  and  he  hadn't 
even  a  roof  over  his  head.** 

A  sharp  line  that  had  never  been  there  before  appeared 
round  his  mouth.  It  became  difficult  for  him  to  speak,  but  he 
could  not  stop.  '^Whatever  you  do,  never  believe  the  clergy,**  he 
continued,  when  he  had  gathered  a  little  strength.  ''That  has 
been  my  disadvantage — ^I  began  to  think  over  things  too  late. 
We  mustn't  grumble,  they  say,  for  one  thing  has  naturally 
grown  out  of  another,  big  things  out  of  little,  and  all  together 
depends  on  God's  will.  According  to  that  our  vermin  must 
finally  become  thorough-bred  horse  for  the  rich — and  God  knows 
I  believe  that  is  possible!  They  have  begun  by  sucking  the 
blood  of  poverty — but  only  see  how  they  prance  in  front  of  the 
carriage !  Ah,  yes — ^how  will  the  new  period  take  shape  ?  What 
do  you  think  about  it?" 

*1t  will  be  good  for  us  all,  father,"  replied  Pelle,  with 
anxiety  in  his  voice.  ''But  it  will  be  sad  for  me,  because  you 
will  no  longer  have  your  part  in  it  all.  But  you  shall  have  a 
fine  resting-place,  and  I  will  give  you  a  great  stone  of  Bom- 
holm  granite,  with  a  beautiful  inscription." 

"You  must  put  on  the  stone:  'Work  to-day,  eat  to-mor- 
row !' "  replied  Lasse  bitterly. 

All  day  long  he  lay  there  in  a  half -sleep.  But  in  the  evening 
twilight  he  raised  his  head.  "Are  those  tiie  angels  I  hear  sing- 
ing ?"  he  whispered.    The  ring  had  gone  out  of  his  voice. 

"No,  those  are  the  little  children  of  the  factory  women,  their 
mothers  wiU  be  coming  home  directly  to  give  them  the  br^ast; 
then  theyTl  stop." 

Lasse  sighed.  "That  will  be  poor  food  if  they  have  to  work 
all  day.    They  say  the  rich  folks  drink  wine  at  twelve  and 


336  PELLB   THE    CONQUEEOB 

fifteen  kroner  a  bottle;  that  sounds  as  if  they  take  the  milk 
away  from  the  little  children  and  torn  it  into  costly  liquors.'' 

He  lay  there  whispering;  Pelle  had  to  bend  his  head  till  it 
was  almost  against  his  mouth,  '^and  in  hand  we've  wandered 
hither^  lad»  yet  each  has  gone  his  own  way.  You  are  going  the 
way  of  youth,  and  Lasse — ^but  you  have  given  me  much  joy." 

Then  the  loving  spirit,  which  for  Pelle  had  burned  always 
clear  and  untroubled  amid  all  vicissitudes,  was  extinguished. 
It  was  as  though  Providence  had  turned  its  face  from  .^m ;  life 
collapsed  and  sank  into  space,  and  he  found  himself  sitting  on 
a  chair — alone.  All  night  long  he  sat  there  motionless  beside 
the  body,  staring  with  vacant  eyes  into  the  incomprehensible, 
while  his  thoughts  whispered  sadly  to  the  dead  of  aU  that  he 
had  been.  He  did  not  move,  but  himself  sat  like  a  dead  man, 
until  Madam  Johnsen  came  in  the  morning  to  ask  how  matters 
were  progressing. 

Then  he  awoke  and  went  out,  in  order  to  make  such  ar- 
rangements as  were  necessary. 


Ok  Saturday^  at  noon^  it  was  reported  that  the  treaty  of 
peace  was  signed^  and  that  the  great  strike  was  .over.  The 
mmor  spread  through  the  capital  with  incredible  speedy  finding 
its  way  everywhere.  ''Have  you  heard  yet?  Have  you  heard 
yet?  Peace  is  concluded!''  The  poor  were  busy  again;  they 
lay  huddled  together  no  longer^  but  came  out  into  the  light  of 
day»  their  lean  faces  full  of  sunlight.  The  women  got  out  their 
baskets  and  sent  the  children  running  to  make  a  few  purchases 
for  Sunday — ^f or  now  the  grocer  would  give  them  a  little  credit  I 
People  smiled  and  chattered  and  borrowed  a  Uttle  happiness  I 
Summer  had  come»  and  a  monstrous  accumulation  of  work  was 
waiting  to  be  done^  and  at  last  they  were  going  to  set  to  work 
in  real  earnest  I  The  news  was  shouted  from  one  back  door  to 
the  next;  people  threw  down  what  they  had  in  their  hands  and 
ran  on  with  the  news.  It  occurred  to  no  one  to  stand  still  and 
to  doubt;  they  were  only  too  willing  to  believe  I 

Later  in  the  afternoon  The  Working  Man  issued  a  board- 
sheet  confirming  the  rumor.  Yes^  it  was  really  true!  And  it 
was  a  victory;  the  right  of  combination  was  recognized,  and 
Capital  had  been  taught  to  respect  the  workers  as  a  political 
factor.  It  would  no  longer  be  possible  to  oppress  them.  And 
in  other  respects  the  status  quo  was  confirmed. 

"Just  think — ^they've  been  taught  to  respect  us,  and  they 
couldn't  refuse  to  accept  the  status  quot"  And  they  laughed  all 
over  their  faces  with  joy  to  think  that  it  was  confirmed,  al- 
though no  one  knew  what  it  was ! 

The  men  were  in  the  streets;  tiiey  were  flocking  to  their 
organizations,  in  order  to  receive  orders  and  to  learn  the  details 
of  the  victory.     One  would  hardly  have  supposed  from  their 

8S7 


338  PELLB   THE   CONQTJEEOE 

appearance  that  the  victory  was  theirs;  they  had  become  so 
accustomed  to  gloom  that  it  was  di£ScTilt  to  shake  it  off. 

There  was  a  sound  of  chattering  in  backyards  and  on  stair- 
cases. Work  was  to  be  resumed — beautiful^  glorious  labor,  that 
meant  food  and  drink  and  a  little  clothing  for  the  body  I  Yes, 
and  domestic  security !  No  more  chewing  the  cud  over  an  empty 
manger;  now  one  could  once  more  throw  one's  money  about  a 
little,  and  then,  by  skimping  and  saving,  vnth  tears  and  hard- 
ship, make  it  suffice!  To-night  father  would  have  something 
really  good  with  his  bread  and  butter,  and  to-morrow,  perhaps, 
they  could  go  out  into  the  forest  with  the  picnic-basket!  Or  at 
all  events,  as  soon  as  they  had  got  their  best  clothes  back  from 
the  pawn-shop !  They  must  have  a  bit  of  an  airing  before  the 
winter  came,  and  they  had  to  go  back  into  pawn!  They  were 
so  overjoyed  at  the  mere  thought  of  peace  that  they  quite  for- 
got, for  tile  moment,  to  demand  anything  new ! 

Pelle  had  taken  part  in  the  concluding  negotiations;  after 
Father  Lasse's  burial  he  was  himself  again.  Toward  evening  he 
was  roaming  about  the  poor  quarter  of  the  city,  rejoicing  in  the 
mood  of  the  people;  he  had  played  such  an  important  part  in 
the  bitter  struggle  of  the  poor  that  he  felt  the  need  to  share 
their  joy  as  well.  From  the  North  Bridge  he  went  by  way  of 
the  Lakes  to  West  Bridge;  and  everywhere  swarms  of  people 
were  afoot.  In  the  side-streets  by  West  Bridge  all  the  families 
had  emerged  from  their  dwellings  and  established  themselves  on 
the  front  steps  and  the  pavements;  there  they  sat,  bare-headed 
in  the  twilight,  gossiping,  smoking,  and  absorbing  refreshments. 
It  was  the  first  warm  evening;  the  sky  was  a  deep  blue,  and  at 
the  end  of  the  street  the  darkness  was  flooded  with  purple. 
There  was  something  extravagant  about  them  all;  joy  urged 
their  movements  to  exceed  the  narrow  every-day  limits,  and 
made  them  stanmier  and  stagger  as  though  slightly  intoxicated. 

Now  they  could  all  make  their  appearance  again,  all  those 
families  that  had  hidden  themselves  during  the  time  of  want; 
they  were  just  as  ragged,  but  that  was  of  no  consequence  now! 
They  were  beaming  with  proud  delight  to  think  that  they  had 
come  through  the  conflict  without  turning  to  any  one  for  help; 
and  the  battles  fought  out  in  the  darkness  were  forgotten. 

Pelle  had  reached  the  open  ground  by  the  Gasworks  Harbor; 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  339 

he  wanted  to  go  over  to  see  his  old  friends  in  the  ^^Ark.** 
Yonder  it  lay^  lifting  its  glowing  mass  into  the  deep  night  of 
the  eastern  sky.  The  red  of  the  sinking  snn  fell  over  it.  High 
overhead,  above  the  crater  of  the  mass,  hung  a  cloud  of  vapor, 
like  a  shadow  on  the  evening  sky.  Pelle,  as  he  wandered,  had 
been  gazing  at  this  streak  of  shadow;  it  was  the  dense  exhala- 
tion of  all  the  creatures  in  the  heart  of  the  mass  below,  tiie  reek 
of  rotting  material  and  inferior  fuel.  Now,  among  other  con- 
sequences of  victory,  there  would  be  a  tiiorough  cleansing  of 
the  dens  of  poverty.  A  dream  floated  before  him,  of  comfortable 
little  dwellings  for  the  workers,  each  with  its  little  garden  and 
its  well-weeded  paths.  It  would  repay  a  man  then  to  go  home 
after  the  day's  fatigue  I 

It  seemed  to  him  that  the  streak  of  smoke  yonder  was 
growing  denser  and  denser.  Or  were  his  eyes  merely  exagger- 
ating that  which  was  occupying  his  thoughts?  He  stood  still, 
gazing — ^flien  he  began  to  run.  A  red  light  was  striking  up- 
ward against  the  cloud  of  smoke — ^touched  a  moment,  and  dis- 
appeared; and  a  fresh  mass  of  smoke  unrolled  itself,  and  hung 
brooding  heavily  overhead. 

Pelle  rushed  across  the  Staple  Square,  and  over  the  long 
bridge.  Only  too  well  did  he  know  the  terrible  bulk  of  the 
^Ark^ — and  there  was  no  other  exit  than  the  tunnel  I  And  the 
timber-work,  which  provided  the  sole  access  to  the  upper  stories  I 
As  he  ran  he  could  see  it  all  clefirly  before  his  eyes,  and  his  mind 
began  to  search  for  means  of  rescue.  The  fire  brigade  was  of 
course  given  the  alarm  at  once,  but  it  would  take  time  to  get  the 
engines  here,  and  it  was  all  a  matter  of  minutes !  If  the  timber 
staging  fell  and  the  tunnel  were  choked  all  the  inmates  would 
be  lost — and  the  ^'Ark^'  did  not  possess  a  single  emergency- 
ladder! 

Outside,  in  front  of  the  ''Ark,'*  was  a  restless  crowd  of  peo- 
ple, all  shouting  together,  '^ere  comes  Pelle !''  cried  some  one. 
At  once  they  were  all  silent,  and  turned  their  faces  toward  him. 
''Fetch  the  fire-escape  from  the  prison !''  he  shouted  to  some  of 
the  men  in  passing,  and  ran  to  the  tunnel-entry. 

From  the  long  corridors  on  tiie  ground  floor  the  inmates 
were  rushing  out  with  their  little  children  in  their  arms.  Some 
were  dragging  valueless  possessions — the  first  things  they  could 


840  PBLLE   THE   CONQTJEEOE 

lay  hands  on.  All  that  was  left  of  the  timher-work  after  Ihe 
wredcage  of  the  terrihle  winter  was  now  brightly  blazing.  Pelle 
tried  to  run  up  the  burning  stairs^  but  fell  through.  The  in- 
mates were  haiiging  half  out  of  Iheir  windows,  staring  down 
with  eyes  fuH  of  madness;  every  moment  they  ran  out  onto 
the  platf onns  in  an  effort  to  get  down,  but  always  ran  shrieking 
back. 

At  her  third-story  window  Widow  Johnsen  stood  wailing, 
witii  her  grandchild  and  the  factory-girPs  little  Paul  in  her 
arms.  Hanne's  little  daughter  stared  silently  out  of  the  win- 
dow, witii  the  deep,  wondering  gaze  of  her  mother.  **Don't  be 
afraid,''  Pelle  shouted  to  the  old  woman;  ^Ve  are  coming  to 
help  you  nowl'*  When  little  Paul  caught  sight  of  Pelle  he 
wrendied  himself  away  from  Madam  Johnsen  and  ran  out  onto 
the  gallery.  He  jumped  right  down,  lay  for  a  moment  on  the 
flagstones,  turned  round  and  round,  quite  confused,  and  then, 
like  a  flash  of  lightning,  he  rushed  by  Pelle  and  out  into  the 
street. 

Pelle  sent  a  few  of  the  men  into  the  long  corridor,  to  see 
whether  all  were  out.  ''Break  in  the  closed  doors,''  he  said; 
''there  may  possibly  be  children  or  sick  people  inside."  The 
inmates  of  the  flrst  and  second  stories  had  saved  themselves 
before  the  flre  had  got  a  h'Old  on  the  woodwork. 

Pelk  himself  ran  up  the  main  staircase  up  to  tiie  lofts  and 
under  the  roof,  in  order  to  go  to  the  assistance  of  the  inmates 
of  the  outbuildings  over  the  attics.  But  he  was  met  by  the  in* 
mates  of  the  long  roof-walk.  "You  can't  get  through  any 
longer,"  said  the  old  rag-picker ;  Tipman's  whole  garret  is  burn- 
ing, and  there  are  no  more  up  here.  God  in  heaven  have  mercy 
on  the  poor  souls  over  there !" 

In  spite  of  this,  Pelle  tried  to  flnd  a  way  over  the  attics, 
but  was  forced  to  turn  back. 

The  men  had  fetched  the  fire-escape,  and  had  with  difficulty 
brought  it  through  the  entry  and  had  set  it  up !  The  burning 
timbers  were  beginning  to  fall;  fragments  <i  burning  wood- 
work lay  all  around,  and  at  any  moment  tiie  whole  building 
might  collapse  with  a  crash.  But  there  was  no  time  to  think 
of  one's  self.  The  smoke  was  roflmg  out  of  Yinslev's  corridor 
and  filling  the  yard.    There  was  need  of  haste. 


THE   OBEAT   STBXJGGLE  341 

^Of  course^  it  was  the  lunatic  who  started  the  fire^^  said  the 
men^  as  they  held  the  ladder. 

It  reached  only  to  the  second  story^  but  Pelle  threw  a  rope 
np  to  Madam  Johnsen^  and  she  fastened  it  to  the  window-frame> 
so  that  he  was  able  to  clamber  np.  With  the  rope  he  lowered 
first  the  child  and  then  the  old  woman  to  his  comrades  below, 
who  were  standing  on  the  ladder  to  receive  them.  The  smoke 
was  smarting  in  his  eyes  and  throat,  and  all  bnt  stifled  him;  he 
conld  see  nothing,  but  he  heard  a  horrible  shrieking  all  about 
him. 

Just  above  him  a  woman  was  wailing.  ^Oh,  Pelle,  help 
me  P  she  whimpered,  half  choking.  It  was  the  timid  seamstress; 
who  had  moved  thither;  he  recognized  her  emotional  voice. 
**She  loves  me  P'  suddenly  flashed  upon  his  mind. 

'^atch  the  rope  and  fasten  it  well  to  the  window-frame,  and 
111  come  up  and  help  you !''  he  said,  and  he  swung  the  end  of 
the  rope  up  toward  tiie  fourth  story.  But  at  the  same  moment 
a  wild  shriek  rang  out.  A  dark  mass  flew  past  his  head  and 
struck  the  flagstones  with  a  dull  thud.  The  flames  darted  hissing 
from  the  window,  as  though  to  reach  after  her,  and  then  drew 
back. 

For  a  moment  he  hung  stupefled  over  the  window-sill.  This 
was  too  horrible.  Was  it  not  her  gentle  voice  that  he  now  heard 
singing  witii  him?  And  then  tiie  timbers  fell  with  a  long 
cracking  sound,  and  a  cloud  of  hot  ashes  rose  in  the  air  and 
filled  the  lungs  as  with  fire.  ^Come  downl^  cried  his  com- 
rades, *the  ladder  is  burning!** 

A  deafening,  long-drawn  ringing  told  him  that  the  fire- 
brigade  was  near  at  hand. 

But  in  the  midst  of  all  the  uproar  Pellets  ears  had  heard  a 
faint,  intermittent  sound.  With  one  leap  he  was  in  Madam 
Johnsen's  room;  he  stood  there  listening;  the  crying  of  a  child 
reached  him  from  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  where  the  rooms 
opened  on  to  the  inner  corridor.  It  was  horrible  to  hear  it  and 
to  stand  there  and  be  able  to  do  nothing.  A  wall  lay  between, 
and  there  was  no  thoroughfare  on  the  otiier  side.  In  the  court 
below  tiiey  were  shouting  his  name.  Devil  take  them,  he  would 
come  when  he  was  ready.  There  he  stood,  obstinate  and 
apathetic,  held  there  by  that  complaining,  childish  voice.    A 


3«  PBLLB   THE   CONQUEEOE 

blind  fury  arose  in  him ;  sullenly  he  set  his  shoulder  against  that 
accursed  wall,  and  prepared  himself  for  the  shock.  But  the  wall 
was  giving  I  Yet  again  he  charged  it — a  terrible  blow — and  part 
of  the  barrier  was  down  I 

He  was  met  by  a  rush  of  stifling  heat  and  smoke;  he  had  to 
hold  his  breath  and  coyer  his  face  with  his  hands  as  he  pressed 
forward.  A  little  child  lay  there  in  a  cradle.  He  stumbled  oyer 
to  it  and  groped  his  way  back  to  the  walL  The  fire,  now 
that  it  had  access  to  the  air,  suddenly  leaped  at  him  with 
an  ezplosiye  force  that  made  him  stagger.  He  felt  as 
though  a  thirsty  bull  had  licked  his  cheek.  It  bellowed 
at  his  heels  witii  a  yoice  of  thunder,  but  was  silent  when 
he  slammed  the  door.  Half  choking  he  found  his  way 
to  the  window  and  tried  to  shout  to  those  below,  but  he 
had  no  yoice  left;  only  a  hoarse  whisper  came  from  his 
throat 

Well,  there  he  stood,  with  a  child  in  his  arms,  and  he  was 
going  to  die  I  But  that  didn't  matter — ^he  had  got  through  the 
wall  I  Behind  him  the  fire  was  pressing  forward ;  it  had  eatep 
a  small  hole  through  the  door,  and  had  thus  created  the  neces- 
sary draught.  The  hole  grew  larger;  sparks  rose  as  under  a 
pair  of  bellows,  and  a  dry,  burning  heat  blew  through  the  open- 
ing. Small,  almost  imperceptible  fiames  were  dancing  oyer  the 
polished  surface;  yery  soon  the  whole  door  would  burst  into  a 
blaze.  His  clothes  smelt  of  singeing;  his  hands  were  curiously 
dry  like  decaying  wood,  and  he  felt  as  if  the  hair  at  the  back 
of  his  head  was  curling.  And  down  below  tiiey  were  shouting 
his  name.  But  all  tiiat  was  of  no  consequence;  only  his  head 
was  so  heayy  with  the  smoke  and  heat  I  He  felt  that  he  was  on 
the  point  of  falling.  Was  tiie  child  still  aliye?  he  wondered. 
But  he  dared  not  look  to  see;  he  had  spread  his  jacket  oyer  its 
face  in  order  to  protect  it. 

He  clutched  the  window-frame,  and  directed  his  dying 
thoughts  toward  ^EUen  and  tiie  children.  Why  was  he  not  with 
them?  What  nonsense  had  it  been  that  induced  him  to  leave 
them?  He  could  no  longer  recollect;  but  if  it  had  not  been  all 
up  with  him  now  he  would  have  hurried  home  to  them,  to  play 
with  Young  Lasse.  But  now  he  must  die;  in  a  moment  he 
would  fall,  suffocated — even  before  the  fiames  could  reach  him. 


THE   GEEAT   STEUGGLB  343 

There  was  some  slight  satisfaction  in  that — ^it  was  as  though  he 
had  played  a  trick  on  some  one. 

Suddenly  something  shot  np  before  his  dying  gaze  and  called 
him  back.  It  was  the  end  of  a  fire-escape^  and  a  fireman  rose 
out  of  the  smoke  just  in  front  of  him^  seized  the  child^  and 
handed  it  down.  Pelle  stood  there  wrestling  witii  the  idea  that 
he  must  move  from  where  he  was;  but  before  it  had  passed 
through  his  mind  a  fireman  had  seized  him  by  the  scrufF  of  his 
neck  and  had  run  down  the  ladder  with  him. 

The  fresh  air  aroused  him.  He  sprang  up  from  the  stretcher 
on  which  the  fireman  had  laid  him  and  looked  excitedly  about 
him.  At  the  same  moment  the  people  began  quite  senselessly  to 
shout  his  name  and  to  clap  their  hands^  and  Madam  Johnsen 
pushed  her  way  through  the  barrier  and  threw  herself  upon 
him.    'Telle  !'*  she  cried,  weeping ;  **oh,  you  are  alive,  Pelle  V' 

*Tes,  of  course  Pm  alive — ^but  that's  nothing  to  cry  about^ 

**No,  but  we  thought  you  were  caught  in  there.  But  how 
you  look,  you  poor  boy  !'*  She  took  him  with  her  to  a  working- 
man's  home,  and  helped  him  to  set  himself  to  rights.  When  he 
had  once  seen  a  looking-glass  he  understood  I  He  was  unrecog- 
nizable, what  with  smoke  and  ashes,  which  had  burnt  themselves 
into  his  skin  and  would  not  come  o£F.  And  under  tiie  grime 
there  was  a  bad  bum  on  one  of  his  cheeks.  He  went  to  one  of 
the  firemen  and  had  a  plaster  applied. 

^TTou  really  want  a  pair  of  eyebrows  too,*'  said  the  fireman. 
'TTou've  been  properly  in  the  fire,  haven't  you?" 

^'Why  did  tiie  fire-engines  take  so  long  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

*TLong?  They  were  ten  minutes  getting  here  after  the 
alarm  was  given.  We  got  the  alarm  at  eight,  and  now  it's 
half-past." 

Pelle  was  silent;  he  was  quite  taken  aback ;  he  felt  as  tiiough 
the  whole  night  must  have  gone  by,  so  much  had  happened. 
Half  an  hour — and  in  that  time  he  had  helped  to  snatch  several 
people  out  of  the  claws  of  death  and  had  seen  others  fall  into 
them.  And  he  himself  was  singed  by  the  close  passage  of  death ! 
The  knowledge  was  lurking  somewhere  at  the  back  of  his  mind, 
an  accomplished  but  elusive  fact;  when  he  clenched  his  fist 
cracks  appeared  in  tiie  skin,  and  his  clothes  smelt  like  burnt 
horn.     In  Ihe  court  the  firemen  were  working  unceasingly. 


844  PBLLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

Some^  from  the  tops  of  iheir  ladders  in  the  courts  were  pouring 
streams  of  water  upon  the  flames;  others  were  forcing  their  way 
into  the  body  of  fhe  building  and  searching  the  rooms;  and 
trcm  time  to  time  a  fireman  made  his  appearance  carrying  a 
charred  body.  Then  the  inmates  of  the  ^'Ark*'  were  called  in- 
side the  barrier  in  order  to  identify  the  body.  They  hnrried 
weeping  through  the  crowds  seeking  one  another;  it  was  impos- 
sible for  the  police  to  assemble  tiiem  or  to  ascertain  how  many 
had  failed  to  escape. 

Suddenly  all  eyes  were  directed  toward  fhe  roof  of  tiie  front 
portion  of  ihe  buildings  where  the  fire  had  not  as  yet  entirely 
prevailed.  There  stood  the  crazy  Yinslev^  playing  on  his  flute; 
and  when  the  cracking  of  the  flre  was  muffled  for  a  moment  one 
could  hear  his  crazy  music  '^Listen!  Listen  I  He  is  playing 
the  march  V^  they  cried.  Yes^  he  was  playing  tiie  march,  but  it 
was  interwoven  with  his  own  fantasies,  so  tiiat  the  well-known 
melody  sounded  quite  insane  on  Yinslev^s  flute. 

The  firemen  erected  a  ladder  and  ran  up  to  the  roof  in 
order  to  save  him,  but  he  fied  before  them.  When  he  could  go 
no  farther  he  leaped  into  the  sea  of  fiame. 

The  market-place  and  the  banks  of  the  canal  were  thick  with 
people;  shoulder  to  shoulder  they  stood  there,  gazing  at  the 
voluptuous  spectacle  of  the  burning  '^Ark.^'  The  grime  and 
poverty  and  the  reek  of  centuries  were  going  up  in  fiames.  How 
it  rustled  and  blazed  and  crackled !  The  crowd  was  in  the  best 
of  spirits  owing  to  the  victory  of  Labor;  no  one  had  been  much 
inclined  to  sleep  that  night;  and  here  was  a  truly  remarkable 
display  of  fireworks,  a  magnificent  illumination  in  honor  of  the 
victory  of  the  poor!  There  were  admiring  cries  of  ^^Ahl** 
people  hissed  in  imitation  of  the  sound  of  rockets  and  clapped 
their  hands  when  the  fiames  leaped  up  or  a  roof  crashed  in. 

Pelle  moved  about  in  the  crowd,  collecting  the  bewildered 
inmates  of  the  ^Ark''  by  the  gates  of  the  prison,  so  that  those 
who  had  relatives  could  find  them.  They  were  weeping,  and  it 
was  difficult  to  console  them.  Alas,  now  tiie  ^'Ark''  was  bum^ 
the  beloved  place  of  refuge  for  so  many  ruined  souls!  ^^ow 
can  you  take  it  to  heart  so?'*  said  Pelle  consolingly.  ^TTou  will 
be  lodged  overnight  by  the  city,  and  afterward  you  will  move 
into  proper  dwelling-houses,  where  everything  is  clean  and  new. 


THE   OBEAT   STBUGGLE  845 

And  you  neednH  cry  over  your  possessioiis,  TU  soon  get  up  a 
collection^  and  you^  have  better  things  than  you  had  before/' 

Nevertheless  they  wept;  like  homeless  wild  beasts  tiiey  whim- 
pered and  rambled  restlessly  to  and  f ro,  seeking  for  they  knew 
not  what.  Their  forest  fastness^  their  glorious  hiding-place,  was 
burning !  What  was  all  the  rest  of  the  city  to  them  ?  It  was 
not  for  them ;  it  was  as  though  there  was  no  place  of  refuge  left 
for  them  in  all  the  world  I  Every  moment  a  few  of  them  slipped 
away,  seeking  again  to  enter  the  site  of  the  fire,  like  horses  tiiat 
seek  to  return  to  the  burning  stable.  Pelle  might  have  spared 
his  efForts  at  consolation;  they  were  races  apart,  a  diflFerent 
species  of  humanity.  In  the  dark,  impenetrable  entrails  of  the 
^'Ark'*  they  had  made  for  themselves  a  world  of  poverty  and 
eztremest  want;  and  they  had  been  as  fantastically  gay  in  tiieir 
careless  existence  as  though  their  world  had  been  one  of  wealth 
and  fortune.    And  now  it  was  all  going  up  in  flame  I 

The  fire  was  unsparing;  its  purifying  flames  could  not  be 
withstood.  The  flames  tore  o£F  great  sheets  of  the  old  wall- 
papers and  flung  them  out  half-burned  into  the  street.  There 
were  many  layers  pasted  together,  many  colors  and  patterns, 
one  dimly  showing  through  another,  making  the  most  curious 
and  fantastic  pictures.  And  on  the  reverse  side  of  these  sheets 
was  a  layer  as  of  coagulated  blood;  this  was  the  charred  rem- 
nant of  the  mysterious  world  of  cupboards  and  chimney-comers, 
the  fauna  of  the  flreplace,  that  had  filled  the  children's  sleep 
with  dreams,  and  in  the  little  mussel-shaped  bodies  was  con- 
tained the  concentrated  exhalation  of  the  poor  man's  night! 
And  now  the  '^Ark''  must  have  been  hot  right  through  to  the 
ground,  for  the  rats  were  beginning  to  leave.  They  came  in 
long,  winding  files  from  the  entry,  and  up  out  of  the  cellars  of 
the  old  iron  merchant  and  the  old  clothes  dealer,  headed  by  the 
old,  scabby  males  which  used  to  visit  the  dustbins  in  the  middle 
of  the  day.    The  onlookers  cheered  and  drove  them  back  again. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  fire  was  visibly  decreasing  and  the 
work  of  clearance  could  begin.  The  crowd  scattered,  a  little 
disappointed  that  all  was  over  so  soon.  The  ^^Ark"  was  an 
extinct  bonfire  I  There  could  not  have  been  a  sackful  of  sound 
firewood  in  all  that  heap  of  lumber ! 

Pelle  took  Madam  Johnsen  and  her  little  grand-daughter 


346  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOB 

to  hifl  lodgings  with  him.  The  old  woman  had  been  complaining 
all  the  time;  she  was  afraid  of  being  given  over  to  the  pnbUc 
authorities.  But  when  she  heard  that  she  was  to  go  with  Pelle 
she  was  reassured. 

On  the  High  Bridge  they  met  the  first  dust-carts  on  their 
way  outward.  They  were  decked  out  wifli  green  garlands  and 
little  national  flags. 


xxxvn 

Thb  next  day  broke  with  a  lofty,  radiant  Sabbath  sky. 
There  was  something  abont  it  that  reminded  one  of  Easter- 
Easter  morning,  with  its  hymns  and  the  pure  winds  of  resur- 
rection. The  Warhmg  Man  rung  in  the  day  with  a  long  and 
serious  leading  article — ^a  greeting  to  the  rosy  dawn — and  in- 
vited the  working-classes  to  attend  a  giant  assembly  on  the 
Common  during  the  afternoon.  All  through  the  forenoon  great 
industry  prevailed — ^wardrobes  had  to  be  overhauled,  provision- 
baskets  packed,  and  liquid  refreshment  provided.  There  was 
much  running  across  landings  and  up  and  down  stairs,  much 
lending  and  borrowing.  This  was  to  be  not  merely  a  feast  of 
victory;  it  was  also  intended  as  a  demonstration — ^that  was  quite 
clear.  The  world  should  see  how  well  they  were  still  holding 
together  after  all  these  weeks  of  tiie  lock-out !  They  were  to  ap- 
pear in  full  strength,  and  they  must  look  their  best. 

In  the  afternoon  the  people  streamed  from  all  sides  toward 
the  Labor  Building;  it  looked  as  though  the  whole  city  was 
flocking  thither.  In  the  big  court-yard,  and  all  along  the  wide 
street  as  far  as  High  Street,  the  trades  unions  were  gathered 
about  their  banners.  The  gr^t  review  had  all  been  planned 
beforehand,  and  all  went  as  by  clockwork  by  those  who  were 
accustomed  to  handling  great  masses  of  men ;  there  was  no  run- 
ning from  side  to  side;  every  one  found  his  place  with  ease. 
Pelle  and  Stolpe,  who  had  devised  the  programme,  went  along 
the  ranks  setting  all  to  rights. 

With  the  men  there  were  no  difficulties ;  but  the  women  and 
children  had  of  course  misunderstood  their  instructions.  They 
should  have  gone  direct  to  the  Common,  but  had  turned  up  here 
witii  all  their  impedimenta.  They  stood  crowding  together  on 
both  the  side-walks;  and  when  tiie  procession  got  under  way 

847 


348  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

ihey  broke  up  and  attached  themselyes  to  its  sides.  They  had 
fought  through  the  campaign^  and  their  place  was  beside  their 
husbands  and  fathers!  It  was  a  bannered  procession  with  a 
double  escort  of  women  and  children  I  Had  the  like  ever  been 
seen? 

No,  the  dty  had  never  seen  such  a  going  f  orfii  of  the  people  t 
Like  a  giant  serpent  the  procession  unrolled  itself;  when  its 
head  was  at  tiie  end  of  the  street  the  greater  part  of  its  body 
was  still  coiled  together.  But  what  was  tiie  matter  in  front 
there?  The  head  of  the  procession  was  turning  toward  the 
wrong  side — ^toward  the  city,  instead  of  taking  the  direct  way  to 
the  Common,  as  the  police  had  ordered!  That  wouldn't  do  I 
That  would  lead  to  a  collision  with  tiie  police !  Make  haste  and 
get  Pelle  to  turn  the  stream  before  a  catastrophe  occurs! — 
Pelle  ?  But  there  he  is,  right  in  front !  He  himself  has  made  a 
mistake  as  to  the  direction !  Ah,  well,  then,  there  is  nothing  to 
be  said  about  it    But  what  in  the  world  was  he  thinking  of? 

Pelle  marches  in  the  front  rank  beside  the  standard-bearer. 
He  sees  and  hears  nothing,  but  his  luminous  gaze  sweeps  over 
the  heads  of  the  crowd.  His  skin  is  still  blackened  by  the  smoke 
of  the  fire;  it  is  peeling  o£F  his  hands;  his  hair  and  moustache 
seem  to  have  been  cropped  very  strangely ;  and  the  skin  is  drawn 
round  the  bum  on  his  cheek.  He  is  conscious  of  one  thing 
only:  the  rhythmic  tread  of  fifty  thousand  men !  As  a  child  he 
has  known  it  in  dreams,  heard  it  like  a  surging  out  of  doors 
when  he  laid  his  head  upon  his  pillow.  This  is  the  great  pro- 
cession of  the  Chosen  People,  and  he  is  leading  them  into  the 
Promised  Land!  And  where  should  their  road  lie  if  not 
through  the  capital? 

At  the  North  Wall  the  mounted  police  are  drawn  up,  closing 
the  inner  city.  They  are  drawn  up  diagonally  across  tiie  thor- 
oughfare, and  were  backing  their  horses  into  the  procession,  in 
order  to  force  it  to  turn  aside.  But  they  were  swept  aside,  and 
the  stream  fiowed  on ;  nothing  can  stop  it. 

It  passes  down  the  street  with  difficulty,  like  a  viscous  mass 
that  makes  its  way  but  slowly,  yet  cannot  be  held  back.  It  is 
full  of  a  peaceful  might.  Who  would  venture  to  hew  a  way  into 
it?  The  police  are  following  it  like  watchful  dogs,  and  on  the 
side-walks  the  people  stand  pressed  against  the  houses;  they 


THE   GBEAT   STRUGGLE  849 

greet  the  prooefl8i<»i  or  scoff  at  it,  according  as  they  are  friends 
or  foes.  Upstairs,  behind  the  big  windows^  are  gaily  dad  ladies 
and  gaitlemen^  quizzing  the  procession  with  half -scornful,  half- 
imeasy  smiles.  What  weird,  hungry,  unkempt  world'  is  this  that 
has  suddenly  risen  up  from  obscurity  to  take  possession  of  the 
highway  ?  And  behind  their  transparent  lace  curtains  the  man- 
u&cturers  gaze  and  grumble.  What  novel  kind  of  demonstra- 
tion is  this?  The  people  have  been  forgiven,  and  instead  of 
going  quietly  back  to  their  work  they  begin  to  parade  the  city 
as  though  to  show  how  many  they  are — ^yes,  and  how  thin  star- 
vation has  made  them  I 

It  is  a  curious  procession  in  every  way.  If  they  wanted  to 
demonstrate  how  roughly  they  have  been  handled,  they  could 
not  have  done  better  I  They  all  bear  the  marks  of  battle — ^they 
are  pale  and  sallow  and  ill-dad;  their  Sunday  best  hangs  in  the 
great  common  wardrobe  still;  what  they  wear  to-day  is  patched 
and  mended.  Hunger  has  refined  their  features;  they  are  more 
like  a  procession  of  ghoste  who  have  shaken  off  the  heavy  bonds 
of  earth  and  are  ready  to  take  possession  of  the  world  of  the 
spirit,  tiian  people  who  hope  to  conquer  the  Promised  Land  for 
tiiemselves  and  posterity.  Such  a  procession  of  conquerors! 
They  are  all  limping!  A  flock  with  broken  wings,  that  none 
the  less  are  seeking  to  fly.    And  whither  are  they  going? 

One  of  their  choirs  breaks  into  song:  ^^e  are  bound  for 
the  Land  of  Fortune !'' 

And  iHiere  does  that  land  lie?  has  any  of  your  watchers  seen 
it?  Or  was  it  not  merely  a  deceitful  dreson,  engendered  by 
hunger?  Eat  enough,  really  enough,  for  once,  good  people,  and 
then  let  us  talk  togetiier!  What  is  it  yonder?  The  emptiness 
that  gave  birth  to  you  and  even  yet  surges  crazily  in  your  starv- 
ing blood?  Or  the  land  of  the  living?  Is  this  then  the  begin- 
ning of  a  new  world  for  you?  Or  is  tibe  curse  eternal  that  brings 
you  into  the  world  to  be  slaves? 

There  is  a  peculiar,  confident  ryhthm  in  their  tread  whidi 
drowns  all  other  sounds,  and  seems  to  say,  '^e  are  the  masters, 
poor  as  we  look  to  the  eye !  We  have  used  four  million  kroner 
in  waging  the  war,  and  twenly  millions  have  been  wasted  be- 
cause they  brought  the  work  of  our  hands  to  a  standstill!  We 
come  from  the  darkness,  and  we  go  toward  the  light,  and  no 


860  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

one  can  hold  ns  back !  Behind  us  lie  hunger  and  poverty,  igno- 
rance and  slavery,  and  before  ns  lies  a  happy  existence,  radiant 
with  the  rising  sun  of  Freedom !  From  this  day  onward  a  new 
age  begins;  we  are  its  youthful  might,  and  we  demand  power 
for  ten  thousand  families!  The  few  have  long  enough  pre- 
vailed P 

Imperturbably  tiiey  march  onward,  despite  the  wounds  that 
must  yet  be  smarting;  for  see,  they  limp!  Why  should  they 
still  doubt? 

Listen,  they  are  singing !  Hoarsely  the  sound  emerges  from 
ten  thousand  throats,  as  though  the  song  had  grown  rusty,  or 
must  first  tear  itself  free.  A  new  instrument  this,  that  has  not 
yet  been  tuned  by  the  master — ^its  first  notes  are  discords !  But 
the  song  runs  to  and  fro  along  the  procession  in  rhythmical 
waves,  it  is  an  army  on  the  march,  and  their  eyes  kindle  and 
blaze  with  the  growing  sense  of  their  power,  the  consciousness 
that  they  are  the  many !  And  the  sound  grows  mighty,  a  storm 
that  rolls  above  the  housetops,  ''Brother,  soon  will  dawn  the 
day!'' 

Touch  not  the  humblest  of  tiiem  now !  A  vast,  intoxicating 
power  has  descended  upon  them;  each  one  has  grown  beyond 
himself,  and  believes  himself  capable  of  performing  miracles. 
There  are  no  loose  particles;  the  whole  is  a  mighty  avalanche. 
Touch  but  one  of  them  and  the  might  of  the  mass  will  pour 
into  him.  He  will  be  oblivious  of  consequences,  but  will  be- 
have as  though  urged  by  destiny — ^as  though  the  vast  being  of 
which  he  forms  a  part  will  assume  all  responsibility,  and  con- 
stitutes the  law ! 

It  is  intoxicating  to  walk  in  the  ranks,  to  be  permitted  to 
bear  the  Union  banners;  even  to  look  on  fills  one  with  strength 
and  joy.  Mothers  and  children  accompany  the  men,  although 
they  have  for  the  most  part  to  walk  in  the  gutters.  It  is  great 
sport  to  fall  out  and  watch  the  whole  mighty  procession  go  by, 
and  then,  by  taking  a  short  cut,  again  to  station  one's  self  at 
the  head.  Stand  at  a  street-comer,  and  it  will  take  hours  for 
the  whole  to  pass  you.  Trapp,  trappf  Trapp,  trappt  It  gets 
into  one's  blood,  and  remains  there,  like  an  eternal  rhythm. 

One  Union  passes  and  another  comes  up;  the  machinists, 
with  the  sturdy  Munck  at  their  head,  as  standard-bearer,  the 


THE   GBBAT   STEUGGLB  861 

same  who  struck  the  three  blows  of  doom  that  summoned  five 
and  forty  thousand  men  to  the  battle  for  the  right  of  combina- 
tion! Hurrah  for  Muhck!  Here  are  the  house-painters^  the 
printers^  the  gloye-makers,  the  tinsmiths^  the  cork-cutters^  the 
leather-dressers^  and  a  group  of  seamen  with  bandy  legs.  At 
the  head  of  these  last  marches  Howling  Peter,  the  giant  trans- 
figured I  The  copper-smiths,  the  coal-miners,  the  carpenters, 
the  journeymen  bakers,  and  the  coach-builders!  A  queer  sort 
of  procession  this!  But  here  are  the  girdlers  and  there  the 
plasterers,  the  stucco-workers,  and  the  goldsmiths,  and  even  the 
sand-blasters  are  here!  The  tailors  and  the  shoemakers  are 
easy  to  recognize.  And  there,  Ood  bless  me,  are  the  slipper- 
makers,  close  at  their  heels ;  they  wouldn't  be  left  in  the  cold ! 
The  gilders,  the  tanners,  the  weavers,  and  the  tobacco-workers  I 
The  file-cutters,  the  bricklayers'-laborers,  the  pattern-makers,  the 
coopers,  the  book-binders,  the  joiners  and  shipbuilders!  What, 
is  there  no  end  to  them?  Hi,  make  way  for  the  journeymen 
glaziers !  Yes,  you  may  well  smile — ^they  are  all  their  own  mas- 
ters !  And  here  come  the  gasworkers,  and  the  water-company's 
men,  and  the  cabinet-makers,  who  turn  in  their  toes  like  tiie 
blacksmiths,  and  march  just  in  front  of  them,  as  though  these 
had  anything  to  learn  from  them  I  Those  are  tiie  skilful  iyory- 
iumers,  and  those  the  brush-makers;  spectacled  these,  and  with 
brushes  growing  out  of  their  noses — ^that  is,  when  they  are  old. 
Well,  so  it  is  all  over  at  last!  The  tail  consists  of  a  swarm  of 
frolicsome  youngsters. 

But  no— these  are  the  milk-boys,  these  young  vagabonds! 
And  behind  them  come  the  factory-girls  and  behind  them  it  all 
begins  again — ^the  pianoforte-makers,  the  millers,  the  saddlers, 
and  the  paper-hangers — ^banners  as  far  as  one  can  see!  How 
big  and  how  gay  the  world  is,  after  all !  How  many  callings  men 
pursue,  so  that  work  shall  never  fail  them!  Ah,  here  are  the 
masons,  with  all  the  old  veterans  at  their  head — ^those  have  been 
in  the  movement  since  the  beginning !  Look,  how  steady  on  his 
leg  is  old  Stolpe  I  And  the  slaters,  with  the  Vanishing  Man  at 
their  head — ^they  look  as  if  they  don't  much  care  about  walking 
on  the  level  earth  I  And  here  are  the  sawyers,  and  the  brewers, 
and  the  chair-makers!  Year  by  year  their  wages  have  been 
beaten  down  so  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  struggle  they  were 


362  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEEOR 

earning  only  half  as  mnch  as  ten  years  ago;  but  see  now  bow 
cheerful  they  look  I  Now  there  will  be  food  in  the  larder  once 
more.  Those  faded-looking  women  there  are  weavers ;  they  have 
no  banner;  eight  ore  the  hour  wont  nm  to  flags.  And  finally 
a  handful  of  newspaper-women  from  The  Working  Man.  God, 
how  weary  they  look !  Their  legs  are  like  lead  from  going  up 
and  down  so  many  stairs.  Each  has  a  bundle  of  papers  under 
her  arm,  as  a  sign  of  her  calling. 

Trapp,  trapp,  trapp,  irapp!  On  they  go,  with  a  slow,  delib- 
erate step.  Whither  ?  Where  Pelle  wills.  ^'Brother,  stxm  wUl 
dawn  the  day!**  One  hears  the  song  over  and  over  again ;  when 
one  division  has  finished  it  the  next  takes  it  up.  The  side- 
streets  are  spewing  their  contents  out  upon  the  procession; 
shrunken  creatures  that  against  their  wiU  were  singed  in  the 
struggle,  and  cannot  recover  their  feet  again.  But  they  follow 
the  procession  with  big  eyes  and  break  into  fanatical  explana- 
tions. 

A  young  fellow  stands  on  the  side-walk  yonder ;  he  has  hid- 
den himself  behind  some  women,  and  is  stretching  his  neck  to 
see.  For  his  own  Union  is  coming  now,  to  which  he  was  faith- 
less in  the  conflict.  Bemorse  has  brought  him  hither.  But  the 
rhythm  of  the  marching  feet  carries  him  away,  so  that  he  for- 
gets aU  and  marches  off  beside  them.  He  imagines  himself  in 
the  ranks,  singing  and  proud  of  the  victory.  And  suddenly  some 
of  his  comrades  seize  him  and  drag  him  into  the  ranks;  they 
lift  him  up  and  march  away  with  him.  A  trophy,  a  tn>phyl 
A  pity  he  can*t  be  stuck  on  a  pole  and  carried  high  overhead  I 

Pelle  is  still  at  the  head  of  the  procession,  at  the  side  of  flie 
sturdy  Munck.  His  aspect  is  quiet  and  smiling,  but  inwardly 
he  is  full  of  unruly  energy;  never  before  has  he  felt  so  strong! 
On  the  side-walks  the  police  keep  step  with  him,  silent  and 
fateful.  He  leads  the  procession  diagonally  across  the  Song's 
New  Market,  and  suddenly  a  shiver  runs  through  tiie  whole ;  he 
is  going  to  make  a  demonstration  in  front  of  Sdiloss  Amalien- 
borg!  No  one  has  thought  of  that!  Only  the  police  are  too 
clever  for  them — the  streets  leading  to  the  castle  are  hdd  by 
troops. 

Gradually  the  procession  widens  out  until  it  fills  the  mtiie 
market-place.    A  hundred  and  fifty  trades  unions,  each  with  its 


THE   GREAT   STRUGGLE  363 

waying  standard  I  A  tremendons  spectacle !  Every  banner  has 
its  motto  or  device.  Red  is  the  color  of  all  those  banners  which 
wave  above  the  societies  which  were  established  in  the  days  of 
Socialism^  and  among  them  are  many  national  flags — ^blue,  red, 
and  white — ^the  standards  of  the  old  guilds  and  corporations. 
Those  belong  to  ancient  societies  which  have  gradually  joined 
the  movement  Over  all  waves  the  standard  of  the  millers, 
which  is  some  hundreds  of  years  old!  It  displays  a  curious- 
looking  scrawl  which  is  the  monogram  of  the  first  absolute  king  I 

But  the  real  standard  is  not  here,  the  red  banner  of  the 
International,  which  led  the  movement  through  the  first  troubled 
years.  The  old  men  would  speedily  recognize  it,  and  the  young 
men  too,  they  have  heard  so  many  legends  attaching  to  it.  If 
it  still  exists  it  is  well  hidden ;  it  would  have  too  great  an  effect 
on  the  authorities — ^would  be  like  a  red  rag  to  a  bulL 

And  as  they  stand  staring  it  suddenly  rises  in  the  air — 
dashed  and  tattered,  imperishable  as  to  color.  Pelle  stands  on 
the  box  of  a  carriage,  solemnly  raising  it  in  the  air.  For  a  mo- 
ment  they  are  taken  by  surprise;  then  they  b^in  to  shout,  imtil 
the  shouts  grow  to  a  tempest  of  soimd.  They  are  greeting  the 
flag  of  brotherhood,  the  blood-red  sign  of  the  International — 
and  Pelle,  too,  who  is  raising  it  in  his  blistered  hands — ^Pelle, 
the  good  comrade,  who  saved  the  child  from  the  fire ;  Pelle,  who 
has  led  the  movement  cause  to  victory  I 

And  Pelle  stands  there  laughing  at  them  frankly,  like  a 
great  child.  This  would  have  been  the  place  to  give  them  all  a 
few  words,  but  he  has  not  yet  recovered  his  mighty  voice.  So 
lie  waves  it  round  over  them  with  a  slow  movement  as  though  he 
were  administering  an  oath  to  them  alL  And  he  is  very  silent. 
This  is  an  old  dream  of  his,  and  at  last  it  has  come  to  fulfill- 
ment! 

The  police  are  pushing  into  the  crowd  in  squads,  but  the 
banner  has  disappeared;  Munck  is  standing  with  an  empty  stave 
in  his  hands,  and  is  on  the  point  of  fixing  his  Union  banner 
on  it. 

^ou  must  take  care  to  get  these  people  away  from  here,  or 
we  shall  hold  you  responsible  for  the  consequences,"  says  the 
police  inspector,  with  a  look  that  promises  mischief.  Pelle  looks 
him  in  the  face.    '*He'd  like  to  throw  me  into  prison,  if  only  he 


364  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

had  the  courage/'  he  thought,  and  then  he  sets  the  procession  la 
motion  again. 

«  ♦  ♦  ♦  « 

Out  on  the  Common  the  great  gathering  of  people  rocked 
to  and  froy  in  restless  confusion.  From  beyond  its  confines  it 
looked  like  a  dark,  raging  sea.  About  eadi  of  the  numerous 
speakers'  platforms  stood  a  densely  packed  crowd,  listening  to 
the  leaders  who  were  demonstrating  the  great  significance  of 
the  day.  But  the  majority  did  not  feel  inclined  to-day  to  stand 
in  a  crowd  about  a  platform.  They  felt  a  longing  to  surrender 
themselves  to  careless  enjoyment,  after  all  the  hardships  they 
had  endured;  to  stand  on  their  heads  in  the  grass,  to  play  the 
clown  for  a  moment.  Group  upon  group  lay  all  over  the  great 
Common,  eating  and  playing.  The  men  had  thrown  off  their 
coats  and  were  vFrestling  with  one  another,  or  trying  to  revive 
the  gymnastic  exercises  of  their  boyhood.  They  laughed  more 
than  they  spoke :  if  any  one  introduced  a  serious  subject  it  was 
inm^ediateirBuppresJ  with  a  puxming  remark.  Nobody  wa- 
serious  to-day  1 

Pelle  moved  slowly  about,  delighting  in  the  crowd,  while 
keeping  a  look-out  for  Madam  Johnsen  and  the  child,  who  were 
to  have  met  him  out  here.  Inwardly,  at  the  back  of  everything, 
he  was  in  a  serious  mood,  and  was  therefore  quiet.  It  must  be 
fine  to  lie  on  one's  belly  here,  in  the  midst  of  one's  own  family 
circle,  eating  hard-boiled  eggs  and  bread-and-butter— or  to  go 
running  about  with  Young  Lasse  on  his  shoulders  I  But  what 
did  it  profit  a  man  to  put  his  trust  in  anything?  He  could  not 
begin  over  again  with  Ellen ;  the  impossible  stood  between  thenu 
To  drive  Young  Lasse  out  of  his  thoughts — ^that  would  be  the 
hardest  thing  of  all;  he  must  see  if  he  could  not  get  him  away 
from  Ellen  in  a  friendly  manner.  As  for  applying  to  the  law 
in  order  to  get  him  back,  that  he  would  not  do. 

The  entire  Stolpe  family  was  lying  in  a  big  circle,  enjoying 
a  meal;  the  sons  were  there  with  their  wives  and  children;  only 
Pelle  and  his  family  were  lacking. 

*'Come  and  set  to!"  said  Stolpe,  "or  youll  be  making  too 
long  a  day  of  it." 

**Yes,"  cried  Madam  Stolpe,  *4t  is  such  a  time  since  we've 
been  together.    No  need  for  us  to  suffer  because  you  and  Ellen 


THE   GREAT  STRUGGLE  366 

can't  agree  I^'  She  did  not  know  the  reason  of  the  breach — at 
all  events,  not  from  him — ^but  was  none  the  less  friendly  toward 
him. 

'1  am  really  looking  for  my  own  basket  of  food/'  said  Pelle, 
lying  down  beiride  them. 

'*Hi  ow  look  here,  you  are  the  deuce  of  a  fellow/'  said  Stolpe, 
suddenly  laughing.  '?ou  intended  beforehand  to  look  in  and 
say  how-d'ye-do  to  Brother  Christian,*  hey?    It  wasn't  very 

*  The  king  was  so  caUed. 

wise  of  you,  really — ^but  thaf  s  all  one  to  me.  But  what  you  have 
done  to-day  no  one  else  could  do.  The  whole  thing  went  like  a 
dance!  Not  a  sign  of  wobbling  in  the  ranks!  You  know,  I 
expect,  that  they  mean  to  put  you  at  the  head  of  the  Central 
Committee?  Then  you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  working 
at  your  wonderful  ideas  of  a  world-federation.  But  there'll  be 
enough  to  do  at  home  here  without  that;  at  the  next  election 
we  must  win  the  city — and  part  of  the  country  too.  You'll  let 
ihem  put  you  up  ?" 

'If  I  recover  my  voice.    I  can't  speak  loudly  at  present." 

'Try  the  raw  yolk  of  an  egg  every  night,"  said  Madam 
Stolpe,  much  concerned,  ''and  tie  your  left-hand  stocking  round 
your  Ihroat  when  you  go  to  bed;  that  is  a  good  way.  But  it 
must  be  the  left-hand  stocking." 

"Mother  is  a  Bed,  you  know,"  said  Stolpe.  "If  I  go  the 
right-hand  side  of  her  she  doesn't  recognize  me !" 

The  sun  must  have  set — ^it  was  already  beginning  to  grow 
dark.  Black  clouds  were  rising  in  the  west.  Pelle  felt  remorse- 
ful that  he  had  not  yet  found  the  old  woman  and  her  grand- 
child, so  he  took  his  leave  of  the  Stolpes. 

He  moved  about,  looking  for  the  two;  wherever  he  went  the 
people  greeted  him,  and  there  was  a  light  in  their  eyes.  He 
noticed  that  a  policeman  was  following  him  at  some  little  dis- 
tance; he  was  one  of  the  secret  hangers-on  of  the  party;  possibly 
he  had  sometiiing  to  communicate  to  him.  So  Pelle  lay  down 
in  the  grass,  a  little  apart  from  the  crowd,  and  the  policeman 
stood  still  and  gazed  cautiously  about  him.  Then  he  came  up 
to  Pelle.  When  he  was  near  he  bent  down  as  though  picking 
something  up.    "They  are  after  you,"  he  said,  under  his  breath; 


366  PBLLE  THE  CONQUEROR 

^this  afternoon  there  was  a  search  made  at  your  place,  and 
you^  be  arrested,  as  soon  as  you  leave  here.''  Then  he 
moved  on. 

Pelle  lay  there  some  minutes  before  he  could  understand  the 
matter.  A  search — but  what  was  there  at  his  house  that  every 
one  might  not  know  of?  Suddenly  he  thought  of  the  wood 
block  and  the  tracrog  of  the  ten-kroner  note.  They  had  sought 
for  some  means  of  striking  at  him — and  they  had  found  the 
materials  of  a  hobby  I 

He  rose  heavily  and  walked  away  from  the  crowd.  On  tiie 
East  Common  he  stood  still  and  gazed  back  hesitatingly  at  this 
restless  sea  of  humanity,  which  was  now  b^^inning  to  break  up, 
and  would  presently  melt  away  into  the  darkness.  Now  the 
victory  was  won  and  they  were  about  to  take  possession  of  the 
Promised  Land — and  he  must  go  to  prison,  for  a  fancy  begot- 
ten of  hunger !  He  had  issued  no  false  money>  nor  had  he  ever 
had  any  intention  of  doing  so.  But  of  what  avail  was  that? 
He  was  to  be  arrested — he  had  read  as  much  in  the  eyes  of 
the  police-inspector.  Penal  servitude — or  at  best  a  term  in 
prison! 

He  felt  that  he  must  postpone  the  decisive  moment  while  he 
composed  his  mind.  So  he  went  back  to  the  city  by  way  of  the 
East  Bridge.  He  kept  to  the  side-streets,  in  order  not  to  be 
seen,  and  made  his  way  toward  St.  Saviour's  churchyard;  the 
police  were  mostly  on  the  Common. 

For  a  moment  the  shipping  in  the  harbor  made  him  think 
of  escape.  But  whither  should  he  flee?  And  to  waiter  about 
abroad  as  an  outlaw,  when  his  task  and  his  fate  lay  here-^ 
could  he  do  it?   No^  he  must  accept  his  fate  I 

The  churchyard  was  closed;  he  had  to  climb  over  the  wall 
in  order  to  get  in.  Some  one  had  put  fresh  flowers  on  Father 
Lasse's  grave.  Maria,  he  thought.  Yes,  it  must  have  been  she  I 
It  was  good  to  be  here ;  he  no  longer  felt  so  terribly  forsaken. 
It  was  as  though  Father  Lasse's  imtiring  care  still  hovered  pro* 
tectingly  about  him. 

But  he  must  move  on.  The  arrest  weighed  upon  his  mind 
and  made  him  restless.  He  wandered  through  the  city,  keeping 
continually  to  the  narrow  side-streets,  where  the  darkness  con- 
cealed him.    This  was  the  field  of  battle — how  restful  it  was 


THE   OBBAT   STBUGOLE  367 

nowl  Thank  God,  it  was  not  they  who  condemned  himl  And 
now  happiness  lay  before  them — but  for  him  I 

Caationsly  he  drew  near  his  lodging — ^two  policemen  in  plain 
clothes  were  patrolling  to  and  fro  before  the  house.  After  that 
he  drew  back  again  into  the  narrow  side-streets.  He  drifted 
abont  aimlessly,  fighting  against  the  implacable,  and  at  last 
resigning  himself. 

He  would  have  liked  to  see  Ellen — ^to  have  spoken  kindly  to 
her,  and  to  have  kissed  the  children.  Bnt  there  was  a  watch  on 
his  home  too— at  e^ery  point  he  was  driven  back  into  the  soli- 
tnde  to  which  he  was  a  stranger.  That  was  the  dreadful  part 
of  it  alL  How  was  he  going  to  live  alone  with  himself,  he  who 
only  breathed  when  in  the  company  of  others?  Ellen  was  still 
his  very  life,  however  violently  he  might  deny  it.  Her  ques- 
tioning eyes  still  gazed  at  him  enigmaticaUy,  from  whatever  cor- 
ner of  existence  he  might  approach.  He  had  a  strong  feeling 
now  that  she  had  held  herself  ready  all  this  time — ^that  she  had 
sat  waiting  for  him,  expecting  him.   How  would  she  accept  this? 

From  Castle  Street  he  saw  a  light  in  Morten's  room.  He 
slipped  into  the  yard  and  up  the  stairs.    Morten  was  reading. 

^fs  something  quite  new  to  see  you — ^fireman  I^  he  said, 
with  a  kindly  smile. 

^  have  come  to  say  good-bye,'^  said  Pelle  lightly. 

Morten  looked  at  him  wonderingly.  '^Are  you  going  to 
travel?^ 

^es  .  .  .  I — ^I  wanted  .  .  .'^  he  said,  and  sat  down. 
He  gazed  on  the  floor  in  front  of  his  feet  ^^What  would  you  do 
if  ibe  authorities  were  sneaking  after  you?''  he  asked  suddenly. 
Morten  stared  at  him  for  a  time.  Then  he  opened  a  drawer  and 
took  out  a  revolver.  ^T.  wouldn't  let  them  lay  hands  on  me,"  he 
aaid  blackly,    '^ut  why  do  you  ask  me?" 

^Oh,  nothing.  .  .  .  Will  you  do  me  a  favor,  Morten?  I 
have  promised  to  take  up  a  collection  for  those  poor  creatures 
from  the  'Ark,'  but  I've  no  time  for  it  now.  They  have  lost  all 
their  belongings  in  the  fire.    Will  you  see  to  the  matter  P' 

'Willingly.    Only  I  don*t  understand '' 

''Why,  I  have  got  to  go  away  for  a  time,"  said  Pelle,  with  a 
grim  laugh.  ''I  have  always  wanted  to  travel,  as  you  know. 
Now  there's  an  opportuni1r)r." 


358  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

'^Good  Inck,  then!''  said  Morten^  looking  at  him  cnrioiuilj 
as  he  pressed  his  hand.  How  much  he  had  guessed  Pelle  did 
not  know.  There  was  Bornhohn  blood  in  Morten's  veins;  he 
was  not  one  to  meddle  in  another's  affairs. 

And  then  he  was  in  the  streets  again.  No,  Morten's  way 
ont  was  of  no  use  to  him — and  now  he  would  give  in,  and  sur- 
render himself  to  the  authorities  I  He  was  in  the  High  Street 
now;  he  had  no  purpose  in  hiding  himself  any  longer. 

In  North  Street  he  saw  a  figure  dealing  with  a  shop-door  in 
a  very  suspicious  manner;  as  Pelle  came  up  it  flattened  itself 
against  the  door.  Pelle  stood  still  on  the  pavement;  the  man, 
too,  was  motionless  for  a  while,  pressing  himself  bade  into  the 
shadow;  then,  with  an  angry  growl,  he  sprang  out,  in  order  to 
strike  Pelle  to  the  ground. 

At  that  very  moment  the  two  men  recognized  one  another. 
The  stranger  was  Ferdinand. 

'*What,  are  you  still  at  liberty  ?"  he  cried,  in  amazement.  *^ 
thought  they  had  taken  you  1" 

*TB[ow  did  you  know  that  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

^Adi,  one  knows  these  tilings — ^ifs  part  of  one's  business. 
Yonll  get  five  to  six  years,  Pelle,  till  you  are  stiff  with  it. 
Prison,  of  course — ^not  penal  servitude." 

Pelle  shuddered. 

^oull  freeze  in  there,"  said  Ferdinand  compassionately. 
''As  for  me,  I  can  settle  down  very  well  in  there.  But  listen, 
Pelle — ^you've  been  so  good,  and  you've  tried  to  save  me — next 
to  mother  you  are  the  only  person  I  care  anything  about.  If 
you  would  like  to  go  abroad  I  can  soon  hide  you  and  find  the 
passage-money." 

''Where  will  you  get  it?"  asked  Pelle,  hesitating. 

"Ach,  I  go  in  for  the  community  of  goods,"  said  Ferdinand 
witii  a  broad  smile.  "The  prefect  of  police  himself  has  just 
five  hundred  kroner  lying  in  his  desk.  Ill  try  to  get  it  for  you 
if  you  like." 

"No,"  said  Pelle  slowly,  "I  would  rather  undergo  my  pun- 
ishment. But  thanks  for  your  kind  intentions — and  give  my 
best  wishes  to  your  old  mother.  And  if  you  ever  have  anything 
to  spare,  then  give  it  to  Widow  Johnsen.  She  and  Ihe  child 
have  gone  hungry  since  Hanne's  death." 


THE   GREAT   STHUGGLB  869 

And  then  there  was  nothing  more  to  do  or  say;  it  was  all 
over.  ...  He  went  straight  across  the  market-place  toward 
the  court-house.  There  it  stood^  looking  so  dismal  I  He  strolled 
slowly  past  it,  along  the  canal,  in  order  to  collect  himself  a  little 
before  going  in.  He  walked  along  the  quay,  gazing  down  into 
the  water,  where  the  boats  and  the  big  live-boxes  full  of  fish 
were  just  visible.  By  Holmens  Church  he  pulled  himself  to- 
gether and  turned  bade — ^he  must  do  it  now  I  He  raised  his  head 
with  a  sudden  resolve  and  found  himself  facing  Marie.  Her 
cheeks  glowed  as  he  gazed  at  her. 

'Telle/*  she  cried,  rejoicing,  ''are  you  still  at  liberty?  Then 
it  wasn't  true  I  I  have  been  to  the  meeting,  and  they  said  there 
you  had  been  arrested.    Ach,  we  have  been  so  unhappy!'' 

'TE  shall  be  arrested — I  am  on  the  way  now." 

''But,  Pelle,  dear  Pellel"  She  gazed  at  him  with  tearful 
eyes.  Ah,  he  was  still  the  foundling,  who  needed  her  caret 
Pelle  himself  had  tears  in  his  eyes;  he  suddenly  felt  weak  and 
impressible.  Here  was  a  human  child  whose  heart  was  beating 
for  him — and  how  beautiful  she  was,  in  her  grief  at  his  mis- 
fortune! 

She  stood  before  him,  slender,  but  generously  formed;  her 
hair — once  so  thin  and  uncared-for — ^fell  in  heavy  waves  over 
her  forehead.  She  had  emerged  from  her  stunted  shell  into  a 
glorious  maturity.  'Telle,"  she  said,  with  downcast  eyes,  grip- 
ping both  his  hands,  "don't  go  there  to-night — ^wait  till  to- 
morrow 1  All  the  others  are  rejoicing  over  the  victory  to-night — 
and  so  should  youl  .  •  •  Gome  with  me,  to  my  room,  Pelle,  you 
are  so  unhappy."  Her  face  showed  him  that  she  was  fighting 
down  her  tears.    She  had  never  looked  so  much  a  child  as  now. 

"Why  do  you  hesitate?  Gome  with  me  I  Am  I  not  pretty? 
And  I  have  kept  it  all  for  you !  I  have  loved  you  since  ttie  very 
first  time  I  ever  saw  you,  Pelle,  and  I  began  to  grow,  because  I 
wanted  to  be  beautiful  for  yoiu  I  owe  nothing  to  any  one  but 
you,  and  if  you  don't  want  me  I  don't  want  to  go  on  living  I" 

No,  she  owed  nothing  to  any  one,  this  child  from  nowhere, 
but  was  solely  and  entirely  her  own  work.  Lovely  and  im- 
touched  she  came  to  him  in  her  abandonment,  as  tiiough  she 
were  sent  by  the  good  angel  of  poverty  to  quicken  his  heart. 
Beautiful  and  pure  of  heart  she  had  grown  up  out  of  W];etched- 


360  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEBOE 

ness  as  thon^  ont  of  happinesB  itself,  and  where  in  the  Irorld 
should  he  rest  his  head,  that  was  wearied  to  death,  but  on  the 
heart  of  her  who  to  him  was  child  and  mother  and  beloved? 

^elle,  do  yon  know,  there  was  dancing  to-day  in  the  Fed- 
eration bnilding  after  the  meeting  on  the  Common,  and  we 
yonng  girls  had  made  a  gre^i  garland,  and  I  was  to  crown  yon 
with  it  when  yon  came  into  the  halL  Oh,  we  did  cry  when  some 
one  came  np  and  caUed  out  to  ns  that  they  had  taken  yonl  But 
now  you  have  won  the  wreath  after  all,  havent  you?  And  you 
shaU  sleep  sweetly  and  not  think  of  to-morrow  I'' 

And  Pelle  fell  asleep  with  his  head  on  her  girlish  bosom. 
And  as  she  lay  there  gazing  at  him  with  the  eyes  of  a  mother, 
he  dreamed  that  Denmark's  hundred  thousand  workers  wsre 
engaged  in  building  a  splendid  castle,  and  that  he  was  the  archi- 
tect. And  when  the  castle  was  finished  he  marched  in  at  the 
head  of  the  army  of  workers;  singing  they  passed  through  the 
long  corridors,  to  fill  the  shining  halls.  But  the  halla  were  not 
there — ^the  castle  had  turned  into  a  prison  I  And  thqr  iwit  <m 
and  on,  but  could  not  find  their  way  out  again. 


DAYBREAK 


IV.  DAYBREAK 


Out  in  tiie  middle  of  the  open,  fertile  country,  where  the 
plough  was  busy  turning  up  the  soil  round  the  numerous  cheerful 
little  houses,  stood  a  gloomy  building  that  on  every  side  turned 
bare  walls  toward  the  smiling  world.  No  panes  of  glass  caught 
the  ruddy  glow  of  the  morning  and  evening  sun  and  threw  back 
its  quivering  reflection;  three  rows  of  barred  apertures  drank 
in  all  the  light  of  day  with  insatiable  avidity.  They  were  always 
gaping  greedily,  and  seen  against  the  background  of  blue  spring 
sky,  looked  like  holes  leading  into  the  everlasting  darkness.  In 
its  heavy  gloom  the  mass  of  masonry  towered  above  the  many 
smiling  homes,  but  their  peaceable  inhabitants  did  not  seem  to 
feel  oppressed.  They  ploughed  their  fields  right  up  to  the  bare 
walls,  and  wherever  the  building  was  visible,  eyes  were  turned 
toward  it  with  an  expression  that  told  of  the  feeling  of  security 
that  its  strong  walls  gave. 

Like  a  landmark  the  huge  building  towered  above  every- 
thing else.  It  might  very  well  have  been  a  temple  raised  to 
God's  glory  by  a  grateful  Humanity,  so  imposing  was  it;  but  if 
so,  it  must  have  been  in  by-gone  ages,  for  no  dwellings — even 
for  the  Almighty — are  built  nowadays  in  so  barbaric  a  style,  as 
if  the  one  object  were  to  keep  out  light  and  air !  The  massive 
waUs  were  saturated  with  the  dank  darkness  within,  and  the 
centuries  had  weathered  th^ir  surface  and  made  on  it  luxuriant 
cultures  of  fungus  and  mould,  and  yet  they  still  seemed  as  if 
they  could  stand  for  an  eternity. 

The  building  was  no  fortress,  however,  nor  yet  a  temple  whose 
dim  recesses  were  the  abode  of  the  unknown  Ood.  If  you 
went  up  to  the  great,  heavy  door,  which  was  always  closed  you 

865 


366  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

could  read  above  the  arch  the  one  word  Prison  in  large  letters^ 
and  below  it  a  simple  Latin  verse  that  with  no  little  preten- 
tiousness proclaimed: 

"I  am  the  threshold  to  aU  virtue  and  wisdom; 
Justice  flourishes  solc^  for  my  sake." 

One  day  in  the  middle  of  spring,  the  little  door  in  the 
prison  gate  opened^  and  a  tall  man  stepped  out  and  looked 
about  him  with  eyes  blinking  at  the  light  which  fell  upon  his 
ashen-white  face.  His  step  faltered  and  he  had  to  lean  for 
support  against  the  wall;  he  looked  as  if  he  were  about  to  go 
back  again,  but  he  drew  a  deep  breath  and  went  out  on  to  the 
open  ground. 

The  spring  breeze  made  a  playful  assault  upon  him,  tried 
to  ruffle  his  prison-clipped,  slightly  gray  hair,  which  had  been 
curly  and  fair  when  last  it  had  done  so,  and  penetrated  gently 
to  his  bare  body  like  a  sof  t,>cool  hand.  'Welcome,  Pelle  I''  said 
the  sun,  as  it  peeped  into  his  distended  pupils  in  which  the 
darkness  of  the  prison-cell  still  lay  brooding.  -Not  a  muscle  of 
his  face  moved,  however;  it  was  as  though  hewn  out  of  stone. 
Only  the  pupils  of  his  eyes  contracted  so  violently  as  to  be 
ahnost  painful,  but  he  continued  to  look  earnestly  before  hinu 
Whenever  he  saw  any  one,  he  stopped  and  gazed  eagerly,  per- 
haps in  the  hope  that  it  was  some  one  coming  to  meet  him. 

As  he  turned  into  the  King's  Boad  some  <me  called  to  him. 
He  turned  round  in  sudden,  intense  joy,  but  then  his  head 
dropped  and  he  went  on  without  answering.  It  was  only  a 
tramp,  who  was  standing  half  out  of  a  ditch  in  a  field  a  little 
way  off,  beckoning  to  him.  He  came  running  over  tiie  ploughed 
field,  crying  hoarsely:  *^ait  a  little,  can't  you?  Here  have  I 
been  waiting  for  company  all  day,  so  you  might  as  well  wait 
a  littler 

He  was  a  broad-shouldered,  rather  puffy-looking  fellow,  with 
a  fiat  back  and  the  nape  of  his  neck  broad  and  straight  and 
running  right  up  into  his  cap  without  forming  any  projection 
for  the  bade  of  his  head,  making  one  involuntarily  think  of 
the  scaffold.  The  bone  of  his  nose  had  sunk  into  his  purple 
face,  giving  a  bull-dog  mixture  of  brutality  and  stupid  curioei1r)r 
to  its  expression. 


DAYBREAK  867 

^ow  long  have  yon  been  in  P'  he  asked,  as  he  joined  him, 
breathless.    There  was  a  maUeions  look  in  his  eyes. 

'*I  went  in  when  Pontius  Pilate  was  a  little  boy,  so  you  can 
reckon  it  out  for  yourself,'*  said  Pelle  shortly. 

'^y  goodness  I  That  was  a  good  spell!  And  what  were 
you  copp^  for?** 

'^Oh,  there  happened  to  be  an  empty  place,  so  they  took 
me  and  put  me  in — so  that  it  shouldn't  stand  empty,  you 
know  1'* 

The  tramp  scowled  at  him.  ^^ou're  laying  it  on  a  little 
too  thick  I  You  won't  get  any  one  to  believe  that!"  he  said 
uncertainly.  Suddenly  he  put  himself  in  front  of  Pelle,  and 
pushed  his  bull-like  forehead  close  to  the  other's  face,  '^ow, 
111  just  tell  you  something,  my  boy!"  he  said.  '1  don't  want 
to  touch  any  one  the  first  day  I'm  out,  but  you'd  better  take 
yourself  and  your  confounded  uppishness  somewhere  else;  for 
I've  been  lying  here  waiting  for  company  all  day." 

^  didn't  mean  to  offend  any  one,"  said  Pelle  absently.  He 
looked  as  if  he  had  not  come  bade  to  earth,  and  appeared  to  have 
no  intention  of  doing  anything. 

'*0h,  didn't  you !  That's  fortunate  for  you,  or  I  might  have 
taken  a  color-print  of  your  doleful  face,  however  imwillingly. 
By  the  way,  mother  said  I  was  to  give  you  her  love." 

''Are  you  Ferdinand  ?"  asked  Pelle,  raising  his  head. 

''Oh,  don't  pretend !"  said  Ferdinand.  "Being  in  gaol  seems 
to  have  made  a  swell  of  you!" 

'TE  didn't  recognize  you,"  said  Pelle  earnestly,  suddenly  re- 
called to  the  world  around  him. 

"Oh,  all  right — ^if  you  say  so.  It  must  be  the  fault  of  my 
nose.  I  got  it  bashed  in  the  evening  after  I'd  buried  mother. 
I  was  to  give  you  her  love,  by  the  way." 

"Thank  you !"  said  Pelle  heartily.  Old  memories  from  the 
"Ark"  filled  his  mind  and  sent  his  blood  coursing  through  his 
veins  once  more.  "Is  it  long  since  your  mother  died  ?"  he  asked 
sympathetically. 

Ferdinand  nodded.  "It  was  a  good  thing,  however,"  he 
said,  "for  now  there's  no  one  I  need  go  and  have  a  bad  con- 
science about.  I'd  made  up  my  mind  that  she  deserved  to 
have  things  comfortable  in  her  old  age,  and  I  was  awfully 


368  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

careful;  but  all  the  same  I  was  caught  for  a  little  robbery  and 
got  eight  months.  That  was  just  after  yon  got  in — ^but  of  course 
yon  know  that.'' 

^o\    How  could  I  know  it?'* 

^^ell,  I  telegraphed  it  oyer  to  you.  I  was  just  opposite 
you,  in  Wing  A,  and  when  I'd  reckoned  out  your  cell,  I  bospoke 
tiie  whole  line  one  evening,  and  knocked  a  message  through  to 
you.  But  tiiere  was  a  sanctimonious  parson  at  the  comer  of 
your  passage,  one  of  those  moral  folk — oh,  you  didn't  even  know 
that,  then?  Well,  I'd  always  suspected  him  of  not  passing  my 
message  on,  though  a  chap  like  thaf s  had  an  awful  lot  of 
learning  put  into  him.  Then  when  I  came  out  I  said  to  myself 
that  there  must  be  an  end  to  all  this,  for  mother'd  taken  it 
yery  much  to  heart,  and  was  failing.  I  managed  to  get  into 
one  of  the  streets  where  honest  thieves  live,  and  went  about  as 
a  colporteur,  and  it  all  went  very  well.  It  would  have  been 
horribly  mean  if  she'd  died  of  himger.  And  we  had  a  jolly 
good  time  for  six  months,  but  then  she  slipped  away  all  the 
same,  and  I  can  just  tell  you  that  I've  never  be^i  in  such  low 
spirits  as  the  day  they  put  her  underground  in  the  cemetery. 
Well,  I  said  to  myself,  there  lies  mother  smelling  the  weeds 
from  underneath,  so  you  can  just  as  well  give  it  all  up,  for  ttiere's 
nothing  more  to  trouble  about  now.  And  I  went  up  to  the 
office  and  asked  for  a  settlement,  and  they  cheated  me  of  fifty 
subscribers,  the  rogues ! 

"Of  course  I  went  to  the  police :  I  was  stupid  enough  to  do 
that  at  that  time.  But  they're  all  a  lot  of  rogues  together. 
They  thought  it  wouldn't  do  to  believe  a  word  that  I  said,  and 
would  have  liked  to  put  me  in  prison  at  once ;  but  for  all  they 
poked  about  they  couldn't  find  a  peg  to  hang  their  hat  upon. 
*He's  managing  to  hide  it  well  this  time,  the  sly  fellow !'  they 
said,  and  let  me  go.  But  there  soon  was  something,  for  I  settled 
the  matter  myself,  and  you  may  take  your  oath  my  employers 
didn't  get  the  best  of  the  arrangement.  You  see  there  are  two 
kinds  of  people — ^poor  people  who  are  only  honest  when  they 
let  themselves  be  robbed,  and  all  the  others.  Why  the  devil 
should  one  go  about  like  a  shorn  sheep  and  not  rob  back !  Some 
day  of  course  therell  be  a  bust-up,  and  then — ^'three  years, 
prisoner !'    I  shall  be  in  again  before  long." 


DAYBREAK  369 

*That  depends  upon  yourself/*  said  Pelle  slowly. 

**0h,  well,  of  course  you  can  do  something;  but  the  police 
are  always  getting  sharper,  and  the  man  isn't  bom  who  won't 
fall  into  the  trap  sooner  or  later." 

'?on  should  try  and  get  some  honest  employment  again. 
You've  shown  that  you  can  succeed." 

Ferdinand  whistled.  *^n  such  a  paltry  way  as  that  I  Many 
thanks  for  the  good  advice!  You'd  like  me  to  look  after  a 
bloated  aristocrat's  geese  and  then  sit  on  the  steps  and  eat  dry 
bread  to  the  smell  of  the  roast  bird,  would  you?  No,  thank 
you !  And  even  if  I  did — ^what  then  ?  You  may  be  quite  sure 
they'd  keep  a  good  watch  on  a  fellow,  if  he  tried  an  honest  job, 
and  it  wouldn't  be  two  days  before  the  shadow  was  there. 
^What's  this  about  Ferdinand  ?  I  hear  things  are  not  all  square 
with  him.  I'm  sorry,  for  he's  really  worked  well ;  but  he'd  better 
look  out  for  another  place.'  Thaf  s  what  the  decent  ones  would 
do ;  the  others  would  simply  wait  until  his  wages  were  due  and 
take  something  off — ^because  he'd  been  in  once.  They  could 
never  be  sure  that  he  hadn't  stolen  something  from  them,  could 
they?  and  ifs  best  to  be  careful!  If  you  make  a  fuss,  you're 
called  a  thief  to  your  face.  I've  tried  it,  let  me  tell  you !  And 
now  you  can  try  it  yourself.  Youll  be  in  again  as  soon  as  ever 
the  spring  comes !  The  worst  of  it  is  that  it  gets  more  every 
time;  a  fellow  like  me  may  get  five  years  for  stealing  five 
krones  (five  shillings).  Isn't  that  a  shame?  So  ifs  just  as 
well  to  do  something  to  make  it  worth  while.  It  wouldn't  matter 
if  you  could  only  get  a  good  hit  at  it  aU.  Ifs  all  one  to  me  now 
that  mother's  dead.  There's  a  child  crying,  but  ifs  not  for  me. 
There  isn't  a  soul  that  would  shed  a  tear  if  I  had  to  lay  my  head 
on  the  block.  They'd  come  and  stare,  thaf  s  what  they'd  do— 
and  I  should  get  properly  into  the  papers  I 

**Wicked?  Of  course  I'm  wicked!  Sometimes  I  feel  like 
one  great  sore,  and  would  like  to  let  them  hear  all  about  it. 
There's  no  such  thing  as  gentle  hands.  Thaf  s  only  a  lie,  so  I 
owe  nothing  to  anybody.  Several  times  while  I've  been  in  there 
I've  made  up  my  mind  to  kill  the  warder,  just  so  as  to  have  a 
hit  at  something ;  for  he  hadn't  done  me  any  harm.  But  then 
I  thought  after  all  it  was  stupid.  I'd  no  objection  to  kick  the 
bucket ;  it  would  be  a  pleasant  change  anyhow  to  sitting  in  prison 


370  PELLB  THE   CONQUEBOB 

all  one's  life.  But  then  you'd  want  to  do  Bomething  first  tha1> 
would  make  a  stir.   That's  what  I  feel !" 

They  walked  on  at  a  good  pace,  their  faces  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  smoky  mist  of  the  town  far  ahead,  Ferdinand 
chewing  his  quid  and  spitting  incessantly.  His  hardened,  bull- 
dog face  with  its  bloodshot  eyes  was  entirely  without  expression 
now  that  he  was  silent 

A  peasant  lad  came  toward  them,  singing  at  the  top  of  his 
voice.    He  must  have  been  about  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  age. 

''What  are  you  so  happy  about,  boy?"  asked  Ferdinand, 
stopping  him. 

*T.  took  a  heifer  into  the  town,  and  I  got  two  krones  (two 
shillings)  for  the  job,"  answered  the  boy,  smiling  all  over  his 
face. 

'HTou  must  have  been  up  early  then,'^  said  Pelle. 

Tf es,  I  left  home  at  three  last  night.  But  now  IVe  earned 
a  day's  wages,  and  can  take  it  easy  the  rest  of  the  dayl"  an- 
swered the  boy,  throwing  the  two-krone  piece  into  the  air  and 
catching  it  again. 

'TPake  care  you  don't  lose  it,"  said  Ferdinand,  following 
the  coin  with  covetous  eyes. 

The  boy  laughed  merrily. 

''Lef s  see  whether  if s  a  good  one.  They're  a  fearful  lot  of 
thieves  on  the  market  in  there." 

The  boy  handed  him  the  coin.  ''Ah,  yes,  if  s  one  of  those 
that  you  can  break  in  half  and  make  two  of,"  said  Ferdinand, 
doing  a  few  juggling  tricks  with  it.  "I  suppose  I  may  keep 
one?"  His  expression  had  become  lively  and  he  winked  ma- 
liciously at  PeUe  as  he  stood  playing  with  the  coin  so  that  it 
appeared  to  be  two.  'TPhere  you  are;  thafs  yours,"  he  said, 
pressing  the  piece  of  money  firmly  into  the  boy's  hand.  "Take 
good  care  of  it,  so  tiiat  you  dont  get  a  scolding  from  your 
mother." 

The  boy  opened  his  empty  hand  in  wojiderment  "Qive  me 
my  two-krone  1"  he  said,  smiling  uncertainly. 

"What  the  devil — ^I*ve  given  it  you  once!"  said  Ferdinand, 
pushing  the  boy  aside  roughly  and  beginning  to  walk  on. 

The  boy  followed  him  and  begged  persistently  for  his  money. 
Then  he  began  to  cry. 


now." 


DAYBEEAK  371 

t 

"Give  him  his  money  1*'  said  Pelle  crossly,   *T:t*s  not  amusing 


^Amusing?*'  exclaimed  Ferdinand,  stopping  abruptly  and 
gazing  at  him  in  amazement.  ^Do  you  thkik  I  play  for  small 
sums?  What  do  I  care  about  the  boy!  He  may  take  himself 
off;  I'm  not  his  father/' 

Pelle  looked  at  him  a  moment  without  comprehending; 
then  he  took  a  paper  containing  a  few  silver  coins  out  of  his 
waistcoat  pocket,  and  handed  the  boy  two  krones.  The  boy 
stood  motionless  with  amazement  for  a  moment,  but  then, 
seizing  the  money,  he  darted  away  as  quickly  as  he 
could  go. 

Ferdinand  went  on,  growling  to  himself  and  blinking  his 
eyes.  Suddenly  he  stopped  and  exclaimed:  'TU  just  tell  you 
as  a  warning  tiiat  if  it  wasn't  you,  and  because  I  don't  want 
to  have  this  day  spoiled,  I'd  have  cracked  your  skull  for  you; 
for  no  one  else  would  have  played  me  that  trick.  Do  you 
understand?"  And  he  stood  still  again  and  pushed  his  heavy 
brow  close  to  Pelle's  face. 

Quick  as  thought,  Pelle  seized  him  by  his  collar  and  trousers, 
and  threw  him  forcibly  onto  a  heap  of  stones.  'Thaf s  the 
second  time  to-day  that  you've  threatened  to  crack  my  skull," 
he  said  in  fury,  pounding  Ferdinand's  head  against  the  stones* 
For  a  few  moments  he  held  him  down  firmly,  but  then  released 
him  and  helped  him  to  rise.  Ferdinand  was  crimson  in  the 
face,  and  stood  swaying,  ready  to  throw  himself  upon  Pelle, 
while  his  gaze  wandered  round  in  search  of  a  weapon.  Then 
he  hesitatingly  drew  the  two-krone  piece  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
handed  it  to  Pelle  in  sign  of  subjection. 

'*You  may  keep  it,"  said  Pelle  condescendingly. 

Ferdinand  quickly  pocketed  it  again,  and  began  to  brush 
the  mud  ofF  his  clothes.  ''The  skilly  in  there  doesn't  seem  to 
have  weakened  you  much,"  he  said,  shaking  himself  good- 
naturedly  as  they  went  on.  'TouVe  still  got  a  confounded  hard 
hand.  But  what  I  can't  understand  is  why  you  should  be  so 
sorry  for  a  hobbledehoy  like  that.  He  can  take  care  of  himself 
without  us." 

''Weren't  you  once  sorry  too  for  a  little  fellow  when  some 
one  wanted  to  take  his  money  away  from  him  ?" 


378  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOR 

^Oh,  that  little  fellow  in  the  'Ark'  who  was  going  to  fetch 
the  medicine  for  his  mother  ?    Thaf s  such  a  long  time  ago  P 

'Tou  got  into  difficulties  with  the  police  for  his  sake!  It 
was  the  first  time  you  were  at  odds  with  the  authorities^  I 
think.'' 

*WeU,  the  boy  hadn't  done  anything;  I  saw  that  myself. 
So  I  hobbled  the  copper  that  was  going  to  run  him  in.  His 
mother  was  ill — ^and  my  old  'un  was  alive;  and  so  I  was  a  big 
idiot!  YouTl  see  you  won't  get  far  with  your  weak  pity.  Do 
we  owe  any  one  anything,  I  should  like  to  know?" 

^TTes,  /  do,"  said  Pelle,  suddenly  raising  his  face  toward 
the  light.    ''But  I  can't  say  you've  much  to  thank  any  one  for." 

''What  confounded  nonsense !"  exclaimed  Ferdinand,  staring 
at  him.  "Have  they  been  good  to  you,  did  you  say?  When 
they  shut  you  up  in  prison  too,  perhaps?  You're  pretending 
to  be  good,  eh  ?  You  stop  that  1  Youll  have  to  go  farther  into 
the  coimtry  with  it.  So  you  think  you  deserved  your  house-of- 
correction  turn,  while  another  was  only  suffering  the  blackest 
injustice?  Nonsense!  They  know  wdl  enough  what  they're 
doing  when  they  get  hold  of  me,  but  they  might  very  well  have 
let  you  off.  You  got  together  fifty  thousand  men,  but  what 
did  you  all  do,  I  should  like  to  know?  You  didn't  make  as 
much  disturbance  as  a  mouse  in  a  pair  of  lady's  xmmention- 
ables.  Well-to-do  people  are  far  more  afraid  of  me  than  of 
you  and  all  your  fellows  together.  Injustice !  Oh,  shut  up  and 
dont  slobber!  You  give  no  quarter,  and  you  don't  ask  any 
either :  thaf s  all.  And  by  the  way,  you  might  do  me  the  favor 
to  take  back  your  two-krone.    I  don't  owe  any  one  anything." 

'Well,  borrow  it,  then,"  said  Pelle.  "You  can't  go  to  town 
quite  without  money." 

"Do  take  it,  won't  you?"  begged  Ferdinand.  "It  isnt  so 
easy  for  you  to  get  hold  of  any  as  for  any  one  else,  and  it  was 
a  little  too  mean  the  way  I  got  it  out  of  you.  You've  been  saving 
it  up  in  there,  a  halfpenny  a  day,  and  perhaps  gone  without 
your  quid,  and  I  come  and  cheat  you  out  of  it!  No,  confound 
it !  And  you  gave  mother  a  little  into  the  bargain ;  I'd  almost 
forgotten  it!  Well,  never  mind  the  tin  then!  I  know  a  place 
where  there's  a  good  stroke  of  business  to  be  done." 

A  little  above  Damhus  Lake  they  turned  into  a  side  road 


DAYBREAK  373 

that  led  northward,  in  order  to  reach  the  town  from  the  Nor- 
rebro  side.  Far  down  to  the  right  a  great  cloud  of  smoke  hnng 
in  the  air.  It  was  the  atmosphere  of  the  city.  As  the  east  wind 
tore  oflf  fragments  of  it  and  carried  them  out,  Ferdinand  lifted 
his  bull-dog  nose  and  sniffed  the  air.  ''Wouldn't  I  like  to  be  sit- 
ting in  the  'Cupping-Glass'  before  a  horse-steak  with  onions  I** 
he  said. 

By  this  time  the  afternoon  was  well  advanced.  They  broke 
sticks  out  of  a  hedge  and  went  on  steadily,  following  ditches 
and  dikes  as  best  they  could.  The  plough  was  being  driven 
over  the  fields,  backward  and  forward,  turning  up  the  black 
earth,  while  crows  and  sea-birds  fought  in  the  fresh  furrows. 
The  ploughmen  put  the  reins  roimd  their  waist  each  time  they 
came  to  the  end  of  their  line,  threw  the  plough  over  and  brought 
it  into  position  for  a  new  furrow,  and  while  they  let  their  horses 
take  breath,  gazed  afar  at  the  two  strange  spring  wayfarers. 
There  was  such  a  foreign  air  about  their  clothes  that  they 
must  be  two  of  that  kind  of  people  that  go  on  foot  from  land 
to  land,  they  thought;  and  they  called  after  them  scraps  of 
foreign  sentences  to  show  they  knew  something  about  them. 
Ah,  yes!  They  were  men  who  could  look  about  them!  Per- 
haps by  to-morrow  those  two  would  be  in  a  foreign  country 
again,  while  other  folk  never  left  the  place  they  were  once  in  I 

They  passed  a  white  house  standing  in  stately  seclusion 
among  old  trees,  a  high  hawthorn  hedge  screening  the  garden 
from  the  road.  Ferdinand  threw  a  hasty  glance  over  the  gate. 
The  blinds  were  all  down !  He  began  to  be  restless,  and  a  little 
farther  on  he  suddenly  slipped  in  behind  a  hedge  and  refused 
to  go  any  farther.  "I  don't  care  to  show  myself  in  town  empty- 
handed,"  he  said.  "And  besides  evening's  the  best  time  to 
go  in  at  full  speed.  Lef  s  wait  here  until  it's  dark.  I  can  smell 
silver  in  that  house  we  passed." 

"Gome  on  now  and  let  those  fancies  alone,"  said  Pelle  ear- 
nestly. "A  new  life  begins  from  to-day.  Ill  manage  to  help 
you  to  get  honest  work !" 

Ferdinand  broke  into  laughter.  "Good  gracious  me!  You 
help  others!  You  haven't  tried  yet  what  it  is  to  come  home 
from  prison !  Youll  find  it  hard  enough  to  get  anywhere  your- 
self, my  good  fellow.    New  life,  ha,  ha!    No;  just  you  stay 


374  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

here  and  well  do  a  little  bufiiness  together  when  it  gets  dark. 
The  house  doesn't  look  quite  squint-eyed.  Then  this  evening 
we  can  go  to  the  ^Cupping-Olass'  and  have  a  jolly  good  q>ieey 
and  act  the  home-coming  American.  Besides  ifs  not  right  to 
go  home  without  taking  something  for  your  family.  Just  you 
wait  I  You  should  see  Xaura  with  the  Arm'  dance  I  She's  my 
cupboard-love,  you  know.  She  can  dance  blindfold  upon  a  table 
full  of  beer-mugs  without  spilling  a  drop.  There  might  be  a 
little  kiss  for  you  too. — Hang  it! — ^you  don't  surely  imagine 
youll  be  made  welcome  anywhere  else,  do  you?  I  can  tell  you 
there's  no  one  wholl  stand  beckoning  you  home. — ^Very  well, 
then  go  to  the  devil,  you  fool,  and  remember  me  to  your  monthly 
nurse !  When  you're  tired  of  family  life,  you  can  ask  for  me  at 
my  address,  the  'Cupping-Glass'."  His  hoarse,  hollow  voice  cut 
through  the  clear  spring  air  as  he  shouted  the  last  words  with  his 
band  to  his  mouth. 

Pelle  went  on  quickly,  as  though  anxious  to  leave  something 
behind  him.  He  had  had  an  insane  hope  of  being  received  in 
some  kind  way  or  other  when  he  came  out — comrades  singing, 
perhaps,  or  a  woman  and  two  children  standing  on  the  white 
highroad,  waiting  for  him  I  And  there  had  only  been  Ferdinand 
to  meet  him  I  Well,  it  had  been  a  damper,  and  now  he  shook 
off  the  disappointment  and  set  out  at  a  good  pace.  The  active 
movement  set  his  pulses  beating.  The  sky  had  never  before 
been  so  bright  as  it  was  to-day;  the  sun  shone  right  into  his 
heart.  There  was  a  smiling  greeting  in  it  all — ^in  the  wind  that 
threw  itself  into  his  very  arms,  in  the  fresh  earth  and  in  the  run- 
ning water  in  the  ditches.    Welcome  back  again,  Pelle  t 

How  wide  and  fair  the  world  looks  when  you've  spent  years 
within  four  bare  walls!  Down  in  the  south  the  clouds  were 
like  the  breast  of  a  great  bright  bird,  one  of  those  that  come 
a  long  way  every  year  with  summer  in  the  beat  of  their  strong 
wings;  and  on  aU  sides  lay  the  open,  white  roads,  pointing 
onward  with  bright  assurances. 

For  the  fourth  time  he  was  setting  out  to  conquer  the  world, 
and  this  time  it  was  in  bitter  earnest.  There  had  always  before 
proved  to  be  something  more  behind,  but  now  he  felt  Ihat  what 
he  should  now  set  out  upon  would  be  decisive ;  if  he  was  victo- 
rious now,  he  would  conquer  eternity.    This  time  it  must  be 


DAYBEEAK  875 

either  for  weal  or  woe^  and  all  that  he  possessed  he  was  now 
bringing  into  the  field.  He  had  never  before  been  so  heavily 
equipped.  Far  off  he  could  still  make  out  the  dome  of  the  prison, 
whidi  stood  there  like  a  huge  mill  over  the  descent  to  the 
nether  worlds  and  groimd  misery  into  crime  in  the  name  of  hu- 
manity. It  sucked  down  every  one  who  was  exposed  to  life's 
uncertainty;  he  had  himself  hung  in  the  funnel  and  felt*how  its 
whirling  drew  him  down. 

But  Pelle  had  been  too  well  equipped.  Hitherto  he  had  suc- 
cessfully converted  everything  into  means  of  rising,  and  he 
took  this  in  the  same  way.  His  hair  was  no  longer  fair,  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  his  mind  was  magically  filled  with  a  secret 
knowledge  of  the  inner  nature  of  things,  for  he  had  sat  at  the 
root  of  all  things,  and  by  listening  had  drawn  it  out  of  the  soli- 
tude. He  had  been  sitting  moping  in  the  dark  mountain  like 
Prince  Fortune,  while  Eternity  sang  to  him  of  the  great  wonder. 
The  spirits  of  evil  had  carried  him  away  into  the  moimtains; 
that  was  alL  And  now  they  had  set  him  free  again,  believing 
that  he  had  become  a  troll  like  all  his  predecessors.  But  Pelle 
was  not  bewitched.  He  had  already  consumed  many  things  in 
his  growth,  and  this  was  added  to  the  rest.  What  did  a  little 
confinement  signify  as  compared  with  the  slow  drip,  drip,  of 
centuries?  Had  he  not  been  bom  with  a  caul,  upon  which 
neither  steel  nor  poison  made  any  impression  ? 

He  sat  down  on  an  elevation,  pulled  off  his  cap,  and  let  the 
cool  breeze  play  upon  his  forehead.  It  was  full  of  rich  promises ; 
in  its  vernal  wandering  over  the  earth  it  had  gathered  up  all 
that  could  improve  and  strengthen,  and  loaded  him  with  it. 
Look  around  you,  Pelle! 

On  all  sides  the  soil  was  being  prepared,  the  plough-teams 
nodded  up  the  gentle  inclines  and  disappeared  down  the  other 
side.  A  thin  vapor  rose  from  the  soil;  it  was  the  last  of  the 
cold  evaporating  in  the  declining  spring  day.  Some  way  down 
a  few  red  cottages  smilingly  faced  the  sunset,  and  still  farther 
on  lay  the  town  with  its  eternal  cloud  of  smoke  hanging  over  it 

What  would  his  future  be  like  down  there?  And  how  did 
matters  stand?  Had  the  new  made  its  way  to  the  front,  or 
would  he  once  more  have  to  submit  to  an  extortioner,  get  only 
the  bare  necessaries  of  life  out  of  his  work,  and  see  the  rest 


376  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROE 

disappear  into  some  one  else's  pocket?  A  number  of  new  fac- 
tories had  grown  up^  and  now  formed  quite  a  belt  about  the 
city^  with  their  himdreds  of  giant  chimneys  stretching  up  into 
the  sky.  But  something  must  be  going  on^  since  they  were  not 
smoking.    Was  it  a  wages  conflict? 

He  was  now  going  to  lay  plans  for  his  lif e^  build  it  up  again 
upon  the  deep  foundation  that  had  been  laid  in  his  solitude; 
and  yet  he  knew  absolutely  nothing  of  tiie  conditions  down  in 
the  town!  Well^  he  had  friends  in  thousands;  the  town  was 
simply  lying  waiting  to  receive  him  with  open  arms^  more  fond 
of  him  than  ever  because  of  all  he  had  suffered.  With  all  his 
ignorance  he  had  been  able  to  lead  them  on  a  little  way;  tiie 
development  had  chosen  him  as  its  blind  instrument^  and  it  had 
been  successful;  but  now  he  was  going  to  lead  them  right  into 
the  land^  for  now  he  felt  the  burden  of  life  within  him. 

Hullo !  if  he  wasn't  building  castles  in  the  air  just  as  in  the 
old  days^  and  forgetting  all  that  the  prison  cell  had  taught  him 
60  bitterly  I  The  others'  good  indeed !  He  had  been  busily  con- 
cerned for  the  homes  of  others^  and  had  not  even  succeeded  in 
building  his  own  I  What  humbug !  Down  there  were  three  neg- 
lected beings  who  would  bring  accusations  against  him^  and 
what  was  the  use  of  his  sheltering  himself  behind  the  welfare 
of  the  many  ?  What  was  the  good  of  receiving  praise  from  tens 
of  thousands  and  being  called  benefactor  by  the  whole  world,  if 
those  three  whose  welfare  had  been  enlrusted  to  him  accused 
him  of  having  failed  them  ?  He  had  often  enough  tried  to  stifle 
their  accusing  voices,  but  in  there  it  was  not  possible  to  stifle 
anything  into  silence. 

Pelle  still  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  chosen  to  accomplish 
something  for  the  masses,  but  it  had  become  of  such  secondary 
importance  when  he  recollected  that  he  had  neglected  his  share 
of  that  which  was  the  duty  of  every  one.  He  had  mistaken 
fimall  for  great,  and  believed  that  when  he  accomplished  some- 
thing that  no  one  else  could  do,  he  might  in  return  pay  less 
attention  to  ordinary  every-day  duties;  but  the  fates  ordained 
that  the  burden  of  life  shoxQd  be  laid  just  where  every  one 
could  help.  And  now  he  was  coming  back  like  a  poor  beggar, 
who  had  conquered  everything  except  the  actual,  and  therefore 
possessed  nothing,  and  had  to  beg  for  mercy.    Branded  as  a 


DAYBBEAK  377 

criminal,  he  must  now  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  accomplish 
that  which  he  had  not  been  able  to  do  in  the  days  of  his  power. 
It  would  be  di£Scult  to  build  his  home  imd v  these  circumstances, 
and  who  was  there  to  help  him?  Those  three  who  could  have 
spoken  for  him  he  had  left  to  their  own  devices  as  punishment 
for  an  offence  which  in  reality  was  his  own. 

He  had  never  before  set  out  in  such  a  poverty-stricken  state. 
He  did  not  even  come  like  one  who  had  something  to  forgive: 
his  prison-cell  had  left  him  nothing.  He  had  had  time  enough 
tiiere  to  go  carefully  over  the  whole  matter,  and  everything  about 
Ellen  that  he  had  before  been  too  much  occupied  to  notice  or 
had  felt  like  a  silent  opposition  to  his  projects,  now  stood  out 
clearly,  and  formed  itself,  against  his  will,  into  the  picture  of 
a  woman  who  never  tiioughf  of  herself,  but  only  of  the  care  of 
her  little  world  and  how  she  could  sacrifice  herself.  He  could 
not  afford  to  give  up  any  of  his  right  here,  and  marshalled  all 
his  accusations  against  her,  bringing  forward  laws  and  morals; 
but  it  all  failed  completely  to  shake  the  image,  and  only  empha- 
sized yet  more  the  strength  of  her  nature.  She  had  sacrificed 
everything  for  him  and  the  children,  her  one  desire  being  to 
see  them  happy.  Each  of  his  attacks  only  washed  away  a  fresh 
layer  of  obstructing  mire,  and  made  the  sacrifice  in  her  action 
stand  out  more  clearly.  It  was  because  she  was  so  imsensual 
and  chaste  that  she  could  act  as  she  had  done.  Alas  I  she  had 
had  to  pay  dearly  for  his  remissness;  it  was  the  mother  who, 
in  their  extreme  want,  gave  her  own  body  to  nourish  her 
offspring. 

Pelle  would  not  yield,  but  fought  fiercely  against  conviction. 
He  had  been  robbed  of  freedom  and  the  right  to  be  a  human 
being  like  others,  and  now  solitude  was  about  to  take  from  him 
all  that  remained  to  sustain  him.  Even  if  everything  joined 
together  against  him,  he  was  not  wrong,  he  would  not  be  wrong. 
It  was  he  who  had  brought  tiie  great  confiict  to  an  end  at  the 
cost  of  his  own — and  he  had  found  Ellen  to  be  a  prostitute  t  His 
thoughts  climg  to  this  word,  and  shouted  it  hoarsely,  unceas- 
ingly— ^prostitute !  prostitute  I  He  did  not  connect  it  with  any- 
thing, but  only  wanted  to  drown  the  clamor  of  accusations  on  all 
sides  which  were  making  him  still  more  naked  and  miserable. 

At  first  letters  now  and  then  came  to  him,  probably  from 


378  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

old  companions-ill-arms,  perhaps  too  from  Ellen:  he  did  not 
know,  for  he  refused  to  take  them.  He  hated  Ellen  because 
she  was  the  stronger,  hated  in  impotent  defiance  everything  and 
everybody.  Neither  she  nor  any  one  else  should  have  the  satis- 
faction of  being  any  comfort  to  him ;  since  he  had  been  shut  up 
as  an  unclean  person,  he  had  better  keep  himself  quite  apart 
from  them.  He  would  make  his  punishment  still  more  hard, 
and  purposely  increased  his  f  orlomness,  kept  out  of  his  thoughts 
everything  that  was  near  and  dear  to  him,  and  dragged  the 
painful  things  into  the  foreground.  Ellen  had  of  course  for- 
gotten him  for  some  one  else,  and  had  perhaps  turned  the  chil- 
dren's thoughts  from  him;  they  would  certainly  be  forbidden 
to  mention  the  word  '^f ather.''  He  could  distinctly  see  them 
all  three  sitting  happily  roimd  the  lamp;  and  when  some  turn 
in  the  conversation  threatened  to  lead  it  to  the  subject  of  him- 
self, a  coldness  and  stillness  as  of  death  suddenly  fell  upon  them* 
He  mercilessly  filled  his  existence  with  icy  acknowledgment  on 
all  points,  and  believed  he  revenged  himself  by  breathing  in  the 
deadly  cold. 

After  a  prolonged  period  of  this  he  was  attacked  with 
frenzy,  dashed  himself  blindly  against  the  walls,  and  shouted 
that  he  wanted  to  get  out.  To  quiet  him  he  was  put  into  a 
strait-waistcoat  and  removed  to  a  pitch-dark  celL  On  the  whole 
he  was  one  of  the  so-called  defiant  prisoners,  who  meant  to  kick 
against  the  pricks,  and  he  was  treated  accordingly. 

But  one  night  when  he  lay  groaning  after  a  punishment, 
and  saw  the  angry  face  of  God  in  the  darkness,  he  suddenly 
became  silent.  ''Are  you  a  human  being?''  it  said,  ''and  can- 
not even  bear  a  little  suffering?"  Pelle  was  startled.  He  had 
never  known  that  there  was  anything  particularly  human  in 
suffering.  But  from  that  night  he  behaved  quietly,  with  a  lis- 
tening expression,  as  if  he  heard  something  through  the  walls. 
"Now  he's  become  quiet,"  said  the  gaoler,  who  was  looking  at 
him  through  the  peep-hole.  "It  won't  be  long  before  he's*  an 
idiot!" 

But  Pelle  had  only  come  out  on  the  other  side;  he  was 
staring  bravely  into  the  darkness  to  see  God's  face  once  more, 
but  in  a  gentler  guise.  The  first  thing  he  saw  was  Ellen 
again,  sitting  there  beautiful,  exculpated,  made  more  desirable 


DATBBE  AK  879 

by  all  his  accusations.  How  great  and  fateful  all  petty  things 
became  here  t  What  was  the  good  of  defending  himself  ?  She 
was  his  fate^  and  he  would  have  to  surrender  unconditionally. 
He  still  did  not  comprehend  her^  but  he  had  a  consciousness  of 
greater  laws  for  life^  laws  that  raised  her  and  made  him  smalL 
She  and  hers  passed  imdefiled  through  places  where  he  stuck 
fast  in  the  surface  mire. 

She  seemed  to  him  to  grow  in  here^  and  led  his  thoughts 
behind  the  surface^  where  they  had  never  been  before.  Her 
unfailing  mother-love  was  like  a  beating  pulse  that  rose  from 
the  invisible  and  revealed  hidden  mystical  forces — ^the  perceptible 
rhythm  of  a  great  heart  which  beat  in  concealment  behind 
everything.  Her  care  resembled  that  of  Qod  Himself;  she  was 
nearer  to  the  springs  of  life  than  he. 

The  springs  of  lifet  Through  her  the  expression  for  the 
first  time  acquired  a  meaning  for  him.  It  was  on  the  whole 
as  if  she  re-created  him^  and  by  occupying  himself  with  her 
ever  enigmatical  nature^  his  thoughts  were  turned  further  and 
further  inward.  He  suspected  the  presence  of  strong  currents 
which  bore  the  whole  thing;  and  sometimes  in  the  silence  of 
his  cell  he  seemed  to  hear  his  existence  flowing,  flowing  like  a 
broad  stream,  and  emptying  itself  out  there  where  his  thoughts 
had  never  ventured  to  roam.  What  became  of  the  days  and 
the  years  with  all  that  they  had  held  ?  The  ever  present  Ellen, 
who  had  never  herself  given  a  thought  to  the  unseen,  brought 
Pelle  face  to  face  with  infinity. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  within  him,  they  sang  one  Sun- 
day during  the  prison  service  Qrundtvig's  hymn,  **The  former 
days  have  passed  away.''  The  hymn  expressed  all  that  he  had 
himself  vaguely  thought,  and  touched  him  deeply;  the  verses 
came  to  him  in  his  narrow  pen  like  waves  from  a  mighty  ocean, 
which  rolled  ages  in  to  the  shore  in  monotonous  power.  He 
suddenly  and  strongly  realized  the  passage  of  generations  of 
human  beings  over  the  earth,  and  boldly  grasped  what  he  had 
until  now  only  dimly  suspected,  namely,  his  own  connection  with 
them  all,  both  those  who  were  living  then  and  all  those  who  had 
gone  before.  How  small  his  own  idea  of  union  had  been  when 
measured  by  this  immense  community  of  souls,  and  what  a  re- 
sponsibility was  connected  with  each  one  I    He  understood  now 


380  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

how  fatal  it  was  to  act  recklessly^  then  break  off  and  leave 
everythmg.  In  reality  you  could  never  leave  anything;  the  very 
smallest  thing  you  shirked  would  be  waiting  for  you  as  your 
fate  at  the  next  milestone.  And  who^  indeed^  was  able  to  over- 
look an  action  ?  You  had  to  be  lenient  continually^  and  at  last 
it  would  turn  out  that  you  had  been  lenient  to  yourself. 

Pelle  was  taking  in  wisdom,  and  his  own  heart  confirmed  it. 
The  thought  of  Ellen  filled  his  mind  more  and  more;  he  had 
lost  her,  and  yet  he  could  not  get  beyond  her.  Did  she  still 
love  him  ?  This  question  pursued  him  day  and  night  with  ever 
increasing  vehemence,  until  even  his  life  seemed  to  depend  upon 
it.  He  felt,  as  he  gazed  questioningly  into  his  solitude,  that  he 
would  be  worthless  if  he  did  not  win  her  bacL  New  worlds 
grew  up  before  him;  he  could  dimly  discern  the  great  con- 
nection between  things,  and  thought  he  coxQd  see  how  deep  down 
the  roots  of  life  stretched,  drawing  nourishment  from  the  very 
darkness  in  which  he  dwelt.  But  to  this  he  received  no 
answer. 

He  never  dreamt  of  writing  to  her.  God  had  His  own  way 
of  dealing  with  the  soul,  a  way  with  which  one  did  not  interfere. 
It  would  have  to  come  like  all  the  rest,  and  he  lulled  himself 
with  the  foolish  hope  that  Ellen  would  come  and  visit  him, 
for  he  was  now  in  the  right  mood  to  receive  her.  On  Sundays 
he  listened  eagerly  to  the  heavy  clang  of  the  gate.  It  meant 
visitors  to  the  prisoners;  and  when  the  gaoler  came  along  the 
corridor  rattling  his  keys.  Pellets  heart  beat  suffocatingly.  This 
repeated  itself  Sunday  after  Sunday,  and  then  he  gave  up  hope 
and  resigned  himself  to  his  fate. 

After  a  long  time,  however,  fortune  favored  him  and  brought 
him  a  greeting. 

Pelle  took  no  personal  part  in  the  knocking  that  every 
evening  after  the  lights  were  out  soimded  through  the  immense 
building  as  if  a  thousand  death-ticks  were  at  work.  He  had 
enough  of  his  own  to  think  about,  and  only  knocked  those  mes- 
sages on  that  had  to  pass  through  his  cell.  One  day,  however, 
a  new  prisoner  was  placed  in  the  cell  next  to  his,  and  woke 
him.  He  was  a  regular  frequenter  of  the  establishment,  and 
immediately  set  about  proclaiming  his  arrival  in  all  directions. 
It  was  Druk-Valde,  '^idow*'  Easmussen's  idler  of  a  sweetheart, 


DAYBEEAK  381 

who  used  to  stand  all  the  winter  through  in  the  gateway  in 
Chapel  Boad^  and  spit  over  the  toes  of  his  well-polished  shoes. 

Yes,  Valde  knew  Pelle's  family  well;  his  sweetheart  had 
looked  after  the  children  when  Ellen,  during  the  great  conflict, 
began  to  go  out  to  work.  Ellen  had  been  very  successful,  and 
still  held  her  head  high.  She  sewed  uppers  and  had  a  couple 
of  apprentices  to  help  her,  and  she  was  really  doing  pretty  well. 
She  did  not  associate  with  any  one,  not  even  with  her  rektives, 
for  she  never  left  her  children. 

Druk- Valde  had  to  go  to  the  wall  every  evening;  the  most 
insignificant  detail  was  of  the  greatest  importance.  Pelle  could 
see  Ellen  as  if  she  were  standing  in  the  darkness  before  him, 
pale,  always  clad  in  black,  always  serious.  She  had  broken  with 
her  parents;  she  had  sacrificed  everything ^f or  his  sake!  She 
even  talked  about  him  so  that  the  children  should  not  have  for- 
gotten him  by  the  time  he  came  back.  ^The  little  beggars  think 
you're  travelling,'*  said  Valde. 

So  everything  was  all  right  I  It  was  like  sunshine  in  his 
heart  to  know  that  she  was  waiting  faithfully  for  him  although 
he  had  cast  her  off.  All  the  ice  must  melt  and  disappear;  he 
was  a  rich  man  in  spite  of  everything. 

Did  she  bear  his  name?  he  asked  eagerly.  It  would  be 
like  her — ^intrepid  as  she  was — defiantly  to  write  'Telle*'  in  large 
letters  on  the  door-plate. 

Yes,  of  course  t  There  was  no  such  thing  as  hiding  there  I 
Lasse  Prederik  and  his  sister  were  big  now,  and  little  Boy  Com- 
fort was  a  huge  fellow  for  his  age — a  regular  little  fatty.  To 
see  him  sitting  in  his  perambulator,  when  they  wheeled  him  out 
on  Sundays,  was  a  sight  for  gods  I 

Pelle  stood  in  the  darkness  as  though  stunned.  Boy  Com- 
fort, a  little  fellow  sitting  in  a  perambulator  I  And  it  was  not 
an  adopted  child  either;  Druk- Valde  so  evidently  took  it  to  be 
his.    EUen!    Ellen! 

He  went  no  more  to  the  wall.  Druk- Valde  knocked  in  vain, 
and  his  six  months  came  to  an  end  without  Pelle  noticing  it. 
This  time  he  made  no  disturbance,  but  shrank  under  a  feeling 
of  being  accursed.  Providence  must  be  hostile  to  him,  since 
the  same  blow  had  been  aimed  at  him  twice.  In  the  da3rtime 
he  sought  relief  in  hard  work  and  reading ;  at  night  he  lay  on 


382  PELLE   THE    CONQUEBOB 

his  dirty,  motaldy-smelliiig  mattress  and  wept.  He  no  longe^ 
tried  to  overtiirow  his  conception  of  Ellen,  for  he  knew  it  was 
hopeless:  she  still  tragically  overshadowed  everything.  She  was 
his  fate  and  still  filled  his  thoughts,  but  not  brightly;  there  was 
indeed  nothing  bright  or  great  about  it  now,  only  imperative 
necessity. 

And  then  his  work!  For  a  man  there  was  always  work 
to  fall  back  upon,  when  happiness  failed  him.  Pelle  set  to 
work  in  earnest  and  the  man  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  prison 
shoemaking  department  liked  to  have  him,  for  he  did  much 
more  than  was  required  of  him.  In  his  leisure  hours  he  read 
diligently,  and  entered  with  zest  into  the  prison  school-work, 
taking  up  especially  history  and  languages.  The  prison  chaplain 
and  the  teachers  took  an  interest  in  him,  and  procured  books 
for  him  which  were  generally  unobtainable  by  the  prisoners. 

When  he  was  thoroughly  tired  out  he  allowed  his  mind  to 
seek  rest  in  thoughts  of  his  home.  His  weariness  cast  a  con- 
ciliatory light  over  everything,  and  he  would  lie  upon  his  pallet 
and  in  imagination  spend  happy  hours  with  his  children,  in- 
cluding that  young  cuckoo  who  always  looked  at  him  with  such 
a  strangely  mocking  expression.  To  Ellen  alone  he  did  not 
get  near.  She  had  never  been  so  beautiful  as  now  in  her  unap- 
proachableness,  but  she  received  all  his  assurances  in  mysterious 
silence,  only  gazing  at  him  with  her  iinf  athomable  eyes.  He  had 
forsaken  her  and  the  home;  he  knew  that;  but  had  he  not  also 
made  reparation?  It  was  her  child  he  held  on  his  knee,  and 
he  meant  to  build  the  home  up  again.  He  had  had  enough  of 
an  outlaw's  life,  and  needed  a  heart  upon  which  to  rest  his 
weary  head. 

All  this  was  dreaming,  but  now  he  was  on  his  way  down 

to  begin  from  the  beginning.    He  did  not  feel  very  courageous ; 

the  imcertainty  held  so  many  possibilities.    Were  the  children 

and  Ellen  well,  and  was  she  still  waiting  for  him?    And  his 

comrades  ?    How  would  his  fate  shape  itself  ? 

*  41  *  *  * 

Pelle  was  so  little  accustomed  to  being  in  the  fresh  air  that  it 
affected  him  powerftdly,  and,  much  against  his  will,  he  fell 
asleep  as  he  leaned  back  upon  the  bank.  The  longing  to  reach 
the  end  of  his  journey  made  him  dream  that  he  was  still  walk- 


DAYBBEAE  883 

ing  on  and  making  Us  entry  into  the  city ;  but  he  did  not  recog- 
nize it;  everything  was  so  changed.  People  were  walking  about 
in  their  best  clothes^  either  going  to  the  wood  or  to  hear  lec- 
tures. 

''Who  is  doing  the  work^  then?'^  he  asked  of  a  man  whom 
he  met 

''Work!*'  exclaimed  the  man  in  surprise.  ''Why,  the  ma- 
chineS;  of  course!  We  each  have  three  hours  at  them  in  the 
day^  but  itil  soon  be  changed  to  two,  for  the  machines  are 
getting  more  and  more  clever.  If  s  splendid  to  live  and  to  know 
that  there  are  no  slaves  but  those  inanimate  machines;  and  for 
that  we  *have  to  thank  a  man  called  Pelle.^' 

"Why,  that's  me  !*'  exclaimed  Pelle,  laughing  with  pleasure. 

"You  I  What  absurdity  I  Why,  you're  a  young  man,  and  all 
this  happened  many -years  ago.'' 

"It  is  me,  aU  the  same!  Don't  you  see  that  my  hair  is 
gray  and  my  forehead  lined?  I  got  like  that  in  fighting  for 
you.  Don't  you  recognize  me?"  But  people  only  laughed  at 
him,  and  he  had  to  go  on. 

"Ill  go  to  Ellen !"  he  thought,  disheartened.  "Shell  speak 
up  for  me  I"  And  while  the  thought  was  in  his  mind,  he  found 
himself  in  her  parlor. 

"Sit  downl"  she  said  kindly.  *TU[y  husbandll  be  here  di- 
rectly."     , 

"Why,  I'm  your  husband !"  he  exclaimed,  hardly  able  to  keep 
back  his  tears ;  but  she  looked  at  him  coldly  and  without  recog- 
nition, and  moved  toward  the  door. 

'Tm  Pelle!"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand  beseechingly. 
"Don't  you  know  me?" 

Ellen  opened  her  lips  to  cry  out,  and  at  that  moment  the 
husband  appeared  threateningly  in  the  doorway.  Prom  behind 
him  Lasse  Frederik  and  Sister  peeped  out  in  alarm,  and  Pelle 
saw  with  a  certain  amoimt  of  satisfaction  that  there  were  only 
the  two.  The  terrible  thing,  however,  was  that  the  man  was 
himself,  the  true  .Pelle  with  the  good,  fair  moustache,  the  lock 
of  hair  on  his  forehead  and  the  go-ahead  expression.  When  he 
discovered  this,  it  all  collapsed  and  he  sank  down  in  despair. 

Pelle  awoke  with  a  start,  bathed  in  perspiration,  and  saw 
with  thankfulness  the  fields  and  the  bright  atmosphere :  he  was 


384  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

at  any  rate  still  alive !  He  rose  and  walked  on  with  heavy  steps 
while  the  spring  breeze  cooled  his  brow. 

His  road  led  him  to  Norrebro.  The  sun  was  setting  behind 
him;  it  must  be  about  the  time  for  leaving  off  work^  and  yet  no 
hooter  sonnded  from  the  numerous  factories^  no  stream  of  be- 
grimed human  beings  poured  out  of  the  side  streets.  In  the 
little  tea-gardens  in  the  Frederikssund  Boad  sat  workmen's 
families  with  perambulator  and  provision-basket;  they  were 
dressed  in  their  best  and  were  enjoying  the  spring  day.  Was 
there  after  all  something  in  his  dream?  If  so,  it  would  be 
splendid  to  come  back!  He  asked  people  what  was  going  on^ 
and  was  told  that  it  was  the  elections,  '^e're  going  to  take  the 
city  to-day  !'*  they  said,  laughing  triumphantly. 

From  the  square  he  turned  into  the  churchyard,  and  went 
down  the  somber  avenue  of  poplars  to  Chapel  Boad.  Opposite 
the  end  of  the  avenue  he  saw  the  two  little  windows  in  the 
second  floor;  and  in  his  passionate  longing  he  seemed  to  see 
Ellen  standing  there  and  beckoning.  He  ran  now,  and  took  the 
stairs  three  or  four  at  a  time. 

Just  as  He  was  about  to  pull  the  bell-cord,  he  heard  strange 
voices  within,  and  paused  as  though  paralyzed.  The  door 
looked  cold  and  as  if  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  him ;  and  there 
was  no  door-plate.  He  went  slowly  down  the  stairs  ^and  asked 
in  the  greengrocer's  cellar  below  whether  a  woman  who  sewed 
uppers  did  not  live  on  the  second  floor  to  the  left.  She  had  been 
forsaken  by  her  husband  and  had  two  children — three,  he  cor- 
rected himself  humbly;  what  had  become  of  them? 

The  deputy-landlord  was  a  new  man  and  could  give  him  no 
information;  so  he  went  up  into  the  house  again,  and  asked 
from  door  to  door  but  without  any  result.  Poor  people  do  not 
generally  live  long  in  one  place. 

Pelle  wandered  about  the  streets  at  haphazard.  He  could 
think  of  no  way  of  getting  Ellen's  address,  and  gave  it  up  dis- 
heartened; in  his  forlorn  condition  he  had  the  impression  that 
people  avoided  him,  and  it  discouraged  him.  His  soul  was  sick 
with  longing  for  a  kind  word  and  a  caress,  and  there  was  no 
one  to  give  them.  No  eyes  brightened  at  seeing  him  out  again, 
and  he  hunted  in  vain  in  house  after  house  for  some  one  who 
would  sympathize  with  him.    A  sudden  feeling  of  hatred  arose 


DAYBBEAK  886 

in  him^  an  evil  desire  to  hit  out  at  everythiiig  and  go  reck- 
lessly on. 

Twilight  was  coming  on.  Below  the  churchyard  wall  some 
newspaper-boys  were  playing  ''touch  last'*  on  their  bicycles. 
They  managed  their  machines  like  circus-riders,  and  resembled 
little  gauchos,  throwing  them  back  and  running  upon  the  back 
wheel  only,  and  bounding  over  obstacles.  They  had  strapped 
their  bags  on  their  backs,  and  their  blue  cap-bands  flapped 
about  their  ears  like  pennons. 

Pelle  seated  himself  upon  a  bench,  and  absently  followed 
their  reckless  play,  while  his  thoughts  went  back  to  his  own 
careless  boyhood.  A  boy  of  ten  or  twelve  took  the  lead  in  break- 
neck tricks,  shouting  and  commanding;  he  was  the  chief  of  the 
band,  and  maintained  the  leadership  with  a  high  hand.  His 
face,  with  its  snub  nose,  beamed  with  lively  impudence,  and  his 
cap  rested  upon  two  exceptionally  prominent  ears. 

The  boys  began  to  make  of  the  stranger  a  target  for  their 
.exuberant  spirits.  In  dashing  past  him  they  pretended  to  lose 
control  of  their  machine,  so  that  it  almost  went  over  his  foot; 
and  at  last  the  leader  suddenly  snatched  off  his  cap.  Pelle 
quietly  picked  it  up,  but  when  tiie  boy  came  circling  back  with 
measured  strokes  as  though  pondering  some  fresh  piece  of  mis- 
chief he  sprang  up  and  seized  him  by  the  collar. 

*TTow  you  shall  have  a  thrashing,  you  scamp  1*'  he  said,  lift- 
ing him  off  his  bicycle.  'TBut  it'll  be  just  as  well  if  you  get  it 
from  your  parents.    What's  your  father's  name?" 

'TEe  hasn't  got  a  father!"  cried  the  other  boys,  flocking 
roimd  them  threateningly.    'Tjet  him  go !" 

The  boy  opened  his  lips  to  give  vent  to  a  torrent  of  bad 
language,  but  stopped  suddenly  and  gazed  in  terror  at  Pelle, 
struggling  like  a  mad  thing  to  get  away.  Pelle  let  him  go  in 
surprise,  and  saw  him  mount  his  bicycle  and  disappear  howling. 
His  companions  dashed  after  him  like  a  flight  of  swallows. 
'TVait  a  little,  Lasse  Prederik !"  they  cried.  Pelle  stood  a  little 
while  gazing  after  them,  and  then  with  bent  head  walked  slowly 
into  Norrebro  Street. 

It  was  strange  to  be  walking  again  in  this  street,  which  had 
played  so  great  a  part  in  his  life.  The  traffic  was  heavier  here 
than  in  other  places,  and  the  stone  paving  made  it  more  so.    A 


386  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOB 

pecnliftr  adamantine  self-dep^idence  was  characteristic  of  tiiifl 
district  where  every  step  was  weighted  with  the  weight  of  labor. 

The  shops  were  the  same^  and  he  also  recognized  several  of 
the  shopkeepers.  He  tried  to  feel  at  home  in  the  crowd,  and 
looked  into  people's  faces,  wondering  whether  any  one  would 
recognize  him.  He  both  wished  and  feared  it,  bnt  th^  hurried 
part,  only  now  and  then  one  of  them  wonld  wonder  a  little  at  his 
strange  appearance.  He  himself  knew  most  of  them  as  well  as 
if  it  had  been  yesterday  he  had  had  to  do  with  those  thousands, 
for  the  intermediate  years  had  not  thrust  new  faces  in  between 
him  and  the  old  ones.  Now  and  again  he  met  one  of  his  men 
walking  on  the  pavement  with  his  wife  on  his  arm,  while  others 
were  standing  on  the  electric  tramcars  as  drivers  and  conductors. 
Weaklings  and  steady  fellows — ^ihey  were  his  army.  He  conld 
name  them  by  name  and  was  acquainted  with  their  family  cir- 
cumstances. Well,  a  good  deal  of  water  had  run  under  the 
bridge  since  then  I 

He  went  into  a  little  inn  for  travelling  artisans,  and  en- 
gaged a  room. 

'Ws  easy  to  see  that  you've  been  away  from  this  country 
for  a  day  or  two,'*  said  the  landlord.    ''Have  you  been  far  P' 

Oh,  yes,  Pelle  had  seen  something  of  the  world.  And  here 
at  home  there  had  been  a  good  many  changes.  How  did  the 
Movement  get  on? 

**Capitallyl  Yes,  awfully  well!  Our  party  has  made  tre- 
mendous progress ;  to-day  we  shall  take  the  town  I** 

'Thatni  make  a  difference  in  things,  I  suppose?^ 

**0h,  well,  I  wouldn't  say  that  for  certain.  TJnemploymfflit 
increases  every  year,  and  ifs  all  the  same  who  represents  the 
town  and  sits  in  parliament.  But  we've  got  on  very  well  as  far 
as  prices  go." 

^ell  me— -there  wad  a  man  in  the  Movement  a  few  years 
ago  called  Pelle;  whafs  become  of  him?'' 

The  landlord  scratched  his  parting,  ^ellel  Pelle  I  Yes, 
of  course.  What  in  the  world  was  there  about  him?  Didn't 
he  make  false  coins,  or  rob  a  till?  If  I  remember  right,  he 
ended  by  going  to  prison.  Well,  well,  there  are  bad  characters 
in  every  movement." 

A  couple  of  workmen,  who  were  sitting  at  a  table  eating  fried 


DAYBREAK  387 

liver,  joined  in  the  oonversation.  ^^e  came  a  good  deal  to  the 
front  five  or  six  years  ago/'  said  one  of  them  with  his  month  full. 
''But  there  wasn't  much  in  him ;  he  had  too  much  imagination/' 

^^e  had  the  gift  of  the  gab,  anyhow/'  said  the  other.  ^ 
still  distinctly  remember  him  at  the  great  lock-out.  He  could 
make  you  think  you  were  no  end  of  a  fine  fellow,  he  could  I 
Well,  tiiaf  8  all  past  and  gone  I    Your  health,  comrade  1'* 

Pelle  rose  quietly  and  went  out.  He  was  forgotten ;  nobody 
remembered  anything  about  him,  in  spite  of  all  that  he  had 
fought  for  and  suffered.  Much  must  have  passed  over  their 
heads  since  then,  and  him  they  had  simply  forgotten. 

He  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  himself,  more  homeless 
here  in  this  street,  which  should  have  been  his  own,  than  in  any 
other  place.  It  was  black  with  people,  but  he  was  not  carried 
with  the  stream;  he  resembled  something  that  has  been  washed 
up  to  one  side  and  left  lying. 

They  were  all  in  their  best  clothes.  The  workmen  came  in 
crowds  on  their  way  either  from  or  to  the  polling-booths,  and 
some  were  collected  and  accompanied  thither  by  eager  com- 
rades. One  man  would  shout  to  another  across  the  road  through 
his  hollowed  hand :  **Hi,  Petersen !  I  suppose  you've  voted  ?" 
Everywhere  there  was  excitement  and  good  humor:  the  city 
was  to  be  taken  t 

Pelle  went  with  the  stream  over  Queen  Louise's  Bridge  and 
farther  into  the  dty.  Here  the  feeling  was  different,  opinions 
were  divided,  people  exchanged  sharp  words.  Outside  the  news- 
paper-o£5ces  stood  dense  crowds  impeding  the  wheel-traffic  as 
they  waited  patiently  for  the  results  that  were  shown  in  the 
windows.  Every  time  a  contested  district  came  in,  a  wave  of 
movement  passed  through  the  crowd,  followed  by  a  mighty 
roar  if  a  victory  was  recorded.  All  was  comparatively  quiet; 
people  stood  outside  the  offices  of  the  papers  that  bore  tiie  color 
of  their  party.  Only  the  quarrelsome  men  gathered  about  their 
opponents  and  had  their  hats  bashed  in.  Within  the  offices  the 
members  of  the  staff  were  passing  busily  backward  and  for- 
ward, hanging  up  the  results  and  correcting  them. 

All  the  cafia  and  restaurants  were  full  of  customers:  The 
telephone  rang  incessantly,  and  messengers  kept  coming  with 
lists  from  the  telegram  bureaus;  men  fought  over  the  results 


388  PELLfi   THE   CONQUEROR 

in  front  of  the  great  blackboard  and  chances  were  discussed  at 
the  tables  and  much  political  nonsense  was  talked. 

Pelle  had  never  seen  the  citj  so  excited,  not  even  during  the 
great  lock-out.    Class  faced  class  with  clenched  fists,  the  work- 
men even  more  eager  than  the  mpper  class:   they  had  become 
out-and-out  politicians.    He  could  see  that  the  Movement  had 
shifted  its  center  of  gravity  over  this.    What  was  necessary  was 
to  gain  seats ;  to-day  tiiey  expected  to  get  the  upper  hand  in  the 
city  and  a  firm  footing  out  in  the  country.    Several  of  the  old 
leaders  were  already  in  parliament  and  brought  forward  their 
practical  experience  in  the  debate;  their  aim  now  was  nothing 
less  than  to  usurp  the  political  power.    This  was  bold  enough : 
they  must  have  been  successful,  after  all.    He  still  possessed  his 
old  quickness  of  hearing  as  regards  the  general  feeling,  and 
perceived  a  change  in  tiie  public  tone.    It  had  become  broader, 
more  democratic.    Even  the  upper  classes  submitted  to  the  ballot 
now,  and  condescended  to  fight  for  a  majority  of  votes. 

Pelle  could  see  no  place  for  himself,  however,  in  this  con- 
flict. *^i,  you  there!  I  suppose  you've  voted?*'  men  shouted 
to  him  as  they  passed.  Voted  I  He  had  not  even  the  right  to 
vote  1  In  the  battle  that  was  now  being  fought,  their  old  leader 
was  not  even  allowed  to  take  part  as  an  ordinary  soldier. 

Out  of  the  road !  They  marched  in  small  bands  on  their  way 
to  the  polling-booths  or  the  Assembly  Rooms,  taking  up  the 
whole  pavement,  and  Pelle  ipadily  moved  out  of  their  way. 
This  time  he  did  not  come  like  a  king's  son  for  whom  the  whole 
world  stood  waiting. 

He  was  of  the  scum  of  the  earthy  neither  more  nor  less,  one 
who  had  been  thrown  aside  and  forgotten.  If  he  succeeded  in 
recalling  himself  to  their  remembrance,  it  would  only  be  the 
bringing  up  of  the  story  of  a  criminal.  There  was  tiie  house 
where  the  Stolpes  lived.  Perhaps  they  knew  where  Ellen  was. 
But  what  did  it  matter  to  him?  He  had  not  forgotten  Lasse 
Prederik's  terror-stricken  face.  And  there  was  the  corner  house 
where  Morten  had  managed  the  business.  Ah,  it  was  long  since 
their  ways  had  parted  I  Morten  had  in  reality  always  envied 
him ;  he  had  not  been  able  to  bear  his  tremendous  success.  Now 
he  would  be  able  to  crow  over  him  1 

Anger  and  bitterness  filled  his  heart,  and  his  head  was  con- 


DAYBREAK  389 

fused,  and  hiB  ihonghts,  bred  of  malicey  were  like  clumsy  fault- 
finders. For  years  the  need  of  associating  with  human  beings 
had  been  accumulating  within  him;  and  now  the  whole  thing 
gave  way  like  an  avalanche.  He  could  easily  pick  a  quarrel  with 
some  one,  just  to  make  himself  less  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
the  rest  of  the  world.  Why  shouldn't  he  go  to  the  '^Cupping- 
Olass"?    He  would  be  expected  there  at  any  rate. 

Outside  Griffenfeldt  Street  there  was  a  crowd.  A  number 
of  people  had  gathered  round  a  coal-heaver,  who  was  belabor- 
ing a  lamp-post  with  the  toes  of  his  wooden  shoes,  at  the  same 
time  using  abusive  language.  He  had  run  against  it  and  had  a 
bruise  on  his  forehead.  People  were  amusing  themselves  at  his 
expense. 

As  the  light  from  the  lamp  fell  upon  fhe  coal-blackened  face 
of  the  drunken  man,  Pelle  recognized  him.  It  was  Merry  Jacob. 
He  pushed  his  way  angrily  through  the  crowd  and  took  him  by 
the  shoulder.  'T^Hiafs  the  matter  with  you,  Jacob  ?  Have  you 
become  a  dnmkard  ?*'  he  said  hotly.    ''How's  that?" 

'It's  got  no  business  to  get  in  the  way  of  an  organized  work- 
man," Jacob  said  indistinctly,  kicking  the  air  to  the  great  de- 
light of  the  onlookers,  who  encouraged  him  to  continue.  "I'm 
a  member  of  my  organization,  and  don't  owe  anything;  you  can 
see  for  yourselves  1"  He  pulled  out  of  his  breast-pocket  a  little 
book  in  a  black  leather  cover,  and  turned  over  its  pages.  "Just 
look  for  yourselves!  Member's  subscription  paid,  isn't  it? 
Strike  subscription  paid,  isn't  it?  Shown  on  entrance,  isn't  it? 
Just  you  shut  up !  Take  it  and  pass  it  round ;  we  must  have 
our  papers  in  order.  You're  supporting  the  election  fund,  I 
suppose  ?  Go  up  and  vote,  conf oimd  you  1  The  man  who  won't 
give  his  mite  is  a  poor  pal.    Who  says  thief?    There's  no  one 

here  that  steals.    I'm  an  honest,  organized ^"    He  suddenly 

began  to  weep,  and  the  saliva  dropped  from  the  comers  of  his 
mouth  onto  his  coat,  while  he  ;nade  fearful  grimaces. 

Pelle  managed  to  get  him  into  a  courtyard,  and  washed  his 
wound  at  the  pump.  The  cold  water  made  him  shiver,  and  his 
head  lolled  weakly.  "Such  a  snotty  blackleg  I"  he  murmured. 
^111  get  the  chairman  to  give  him  a  doing  in  fhe  paper." 

Suddenly  he  recognized  Pelle.  He  started,  and  consciousness 
struggled  to  obtain  control  over  his  dulled  senses.    "Why,  is 


390  PELLE  THE  CONQUEEOB 

that  jovLf  master  P'  he  asked  shamefacedly,  seizing  PeDe's  hmd. 
^So  you've  come  backl  I  suppose  you  think  me  a  beast,  bat 
what  can  I  do?^ 

^Just  come  along!'*  said  PeUe  sharply,  anxious  to  get  away 
from  the  crowd  of  spectators. 

They  went  down  Meinung  Street,  Jacob  staggering  along  in 
silence,  and  looking  askance  at  his  former  leader.  He  walked 
a  little  awkwardly,  but  it  came  from  his  work;  the  meeting  with 
Pelle  had  made  him  ahnost  sober,  '^'m  sure  you  think  I'm  a 
beast,''  he  said  again  at  last  in  a  pitiful  ydoe.  ^ut  you  sea 
tiiere's  no  one  to  keep  me  straight" 

^f s  the  fault  of  the  brandy,"  said  Pelle  shortly. 

^^ell,  you  may  be  right,  but  a  fellow  needs  a  kind  word 
now  and  then,  and  you  have  to  take  it  where  you  can  get  it 
Your  pals  look  down  upon  you  and  chuck  you  out  of  their  set" 

^'Whaf  s  the  matter,  then  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

^'Whafs  the  matter?  Six  times  five's  the  matter,  because 
I  wouldn't  let  my  old  father  starve  during  the  lockout  We  had 
a  jolly  good  time  then.  I  was  a  good  son  1  Didn't  mind  the  fat 
purses  of  the  bigwigs  and  a  little  bread  and  water — and  the 
devil  and  his  standpipe  I  But  now  they're  singing  another  tone : 
That  mant  Why,  he's  been  punished  for  theft  I  End  of  him. 
No  one  asks  why;  theyVe  become  big  men,  you  see.  In  olden 
days  I  was  always  called  Merry  Jacob,  and  the  fellows  liked  to 
be  in  my  shift.  Do  you  know  what  they  call  me  now?  Thiev- 
ing Jacob.  Well,  they  don't  say  it  right  out,  for  if  they  did, 
some  one  'ud  crack  their  heads  for  them ;  but  that  is  my  name. 
Well,  I  say  to  myself,  perhaps  you  saw  everything  topsy-torvy 
in  those  days;  perhaps,  after  all,  you're  nothing  but  a  thief. 
And  then  I  have  to  drink  to  become  an  honest  man  again." 

^And  get  in  rages  with  the  lamp-posts  1  Don't  you  think 
you'd  do  better  to  hit  out  at  those  who  wrong  you?" 

Jacob  was  silent  and  hung  his  head;  the  once  strong,  bold 
fellow  had  become  like  a  dog  that  any  one  might  kick.  If  it 
were  $o  dreadful  to  bear  six  times  five  among  one's  own  people, 
what  could  Pelle  say?  '^ow  is  your  bro<her?"  he  asked,  in 
order  to  divert  Jacob's  thoughts  to  something  brighter,  '^e 
was  a  splendid  fellow." 

^'He  hung  himself,"  answered  Jacob  gloomily.    '*He  couldnt 


DATBBEAK  391 

stand  it  any  longer.  We  broke  into  a  honse  together,  so  as  to  be 
equal  about  it;  and  the  grocer  owed  the  old  man  money — he'd 
worked  for  ilr— and  they  meant  to  cheat  him  out  of  it  So  the 
two  old  things  were  starving,  and  had  no  fire  either ;  and  we  got 
them  what  they'd  a  right  to,  and  it  was  so  splendidly  done  too. 
But  afterward  when  there  was  a  row  at  the  works,  agitation  and 
election  fuss  and  all  that  kind  of  thing,  they  just  went  and  left 
him  and  me  out  We  weren't  the  right  sort,  you  see;  we  hadn't 
the  right  to  vote.  He  couldn't  get  even  with  the  business  in 
any  other  way  fhan*by  putting  a  rope  over  the  lamp-hook  in  the 
ceiling.  I've  looked  at  the  matter  myself  all  round,  you  see, 
but  I  can't  make  anything  of  it."  He  walked  on  a  little  without 
speaking,  and  then  said:  '^ould  you  hit  out  properly  now? 
There's  need  of  a  kind  word." 

Pelle  did  not  answer;  it  was  all  too  sad.  He  did  not  even 
hear  the  question. 

'?t  was  chiefly  what  you  said  that  made  me  believe  in  a 
better  time  coming,"  Jacob  continued  persistently,  ''or  perhaps 
my  brother  and  me  would  have  done  difFerently  and  things 
might  have  gone  better  with  both  of  us.  Well,  I  suppose  you 
believed  it  yourself,  but  what  do  you  think  now?  Do  you  still 
believe  in  tiiat  about  the  better  time?  For  I  should  like  to  be 
an  honest  man  again." 

Of  course  Pelle  still  believed  in  it 

Tor  there  aren't  many  who'd  give  a  brass  farthing  for  that 
story  now ;  but  if  you  say  so— I've  got  faith  in  you  all  the  same. 
Others  wouldn't  have  the  brains  to  think  of  anything  for  them- 
selves, and  it  was  like  the  cork  going  off,  so  to  speak,  for  us 
poor  people  when  you  went  away;  everything  went  flat  If  any- 
thing happens,  it  doesn't  do  for  a  poor  devil  to  look  on;  and 
every  time  any  one  wants  to  complain,  he  gets  a  voting-paper 
pushed  into  his  hand  and  they  say:  Gfo  and  vote  and  things  will 
be  altered!  But  confound  it,  that  can't  rouse  a  fellow  who's 
not  learnt  anything  from  the  time  he  was  smalL  They'd  taken 
a  lot  of  trouble  about  me  now — ^whitewashing  me  so  that  I  could 
use  my  right  to  vote;  but  they  can't  make  me  so  that  no  one 
looks  down  on  me.  And  so  I  say,  Thank  you  for  nothing  I  But 
if  you  still  believe  in  it,  so  will  I,  for  IVe  got  faith  in  yoiL 
Here's  my  hand  on  it  P 


392  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

Jacob  was  the  same  simple^  good-hearted  fellow  that  he  had 
been  in  former  days  when  he  lived  in  the  attic  in  the  "Ark.*' 
There  might  very  well  have  been  a  little  more  evil  in  him.  Bnt 
his  words  warmed  Pelle's  heart.  Here  was  some  one  who  needed 
him,  and  who  still  believed  in  him  although  he  had  been  maimed 
in  the  fight.  He  was  the  first  of  the  disabled  ones,  and  Pelle  was 
prepared  to  meet  with  more  and  to  hear  their  accusations. 
Many  of  them  would  turn  against  him  now  that  he  was  power- 
less, but  he  would  have  to  put  up  with  that.  He  felt  as  tiiough 
he  had  the  strength  for  it  now. 

Pelle  went  into  the  street  again,  letting  his  feet  carry  him 
where  they  would,  while  he  thought  of  the  past  and  the  future. 
They  had  been  so  certain  that  a  new  age  would  dawn  upon  them 
at  once !  The  new,  great  truth  had  been  so  self-evident  that  it 
seemed  as  if  all  the  old  conditions  must  fall  before  it  as  at  a 
magic  word;  and  now  the  everyday  reality  had  worn  the  gloss 
off  it.  As  far  as  he  could  see,  nothing  particular  had  happened, 
and  what  was  there  to  happen?  That  was  not  the  way  to  over- 
turn systems.  Prom  Merry  Jacob's  opinion  he  could  draw  his 
own,  but  he  was  no  longer  despondent,  he  did  not  mind  what 
happened.  He  would  have  had  no  objection  to  challenge  the 
opinion  of  his  old  comrades  at  once,  and  find  out  how  he  stood. 

He  had  passed  through  several  side  streets  when  he  suddenly 
found  himself  in  front  of  a  large,  well-lighted  building  with  a 
broad  flight  of  steps,  up  which  people  were  flocking.  It  was 
one  of  the  working-men's  halls,  and  festivities  were  being  held  in 
it  to  celebrate  the  elections.  Pelle  went,  by  force  of  habit,  with 
the  stream. 

He  remained  at  the  back  of  the  hall,  and  used  his  eyes  as 
though  he  had  just  dropped  down  from  some  other  planet; 
strange  feelings  welled  up  within  him  when  he  found  himself 
once  more  among  the  people.  For  a  moment  he  felt  a  vehement 
desire  to  cry:  Here  I  am  I  and  stretch  out  his  arms  to  them  all; 
but  he  quickly  controlled  it,  and  his  face  regained  its  stony 
composure. 

This  then  was  his  army  from  the  conflict.  They  were  de- 
cidedly better  clothed  than  on  the  day  when  he  led  them  in  tri- 
umph into  the  city  as  its  true  citizens ;  they  carried  their  heads 
higher  too,  did  not  get  behind  one  another,  but  claimed  room 


DAYBBEAK  393 

for  themselves.  They  had  more  to  eat,  he  could  see,  for  their 
faces  shone  more;  and  their  eyes  had  become  indolent  in  ex- 
pression, and  no  longer  looked  hungrily  out  into  uncertainty  but 
moved  quietly  and  unhesitatingly  from  place  to  place.  They 
were  prepared  for  another  long  march,  and  perhaps  it  was  as 
well;  great  things  did  not  happen  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

He  was  aroused  from  his  thoughts  by  discovering  that  the 
people  nearest  to  him  were  turning  and  gazing  at  him.  The 
number  of  faces  looking  round  at  him  increased,  and  the  words, 
'Telle  is  here  !*'  passed  in  a  murmur  through  the  crowd.  Hun- 
dreds of  eyes  were  directed  toward  him  questioningly  and  search- 
ingly,  some  of  them  in  evident  expectation  of  something  unusual 
happening  at  once. 

The  movement  became  general — a  wave  that  carried  him  re- 
sistlessly  to  the  front  of  the  hall  and  up  onto  the  platform.  A 
great  roar  like  the  breaking  of  surf  arose  on  all  sides  of  him  and 
stupefied  his  sensitive  brain  in  which  silence  sat  always  putting 
together  a  fine  new  world  about  which  no  one  else  knew.  Sud- 
denly everything  was  still,  so  still  that  tiie  solitude  was  again 
audible  to  his  ear. 

Pelle  spoke  quietly  and  with  confidence.  His  words  were  a 
greeting  to  them  from  a  world  they  as  yet  did  not  know,  the 
great  solitude  through  which  man  must  move  alone — ^without 
loud-voiced  companions  to  encourage  him — and  listen  until  he 
hears  his  own  heart  beat  within  it.  He  sits  in  a  cell  again,  like 
the  first  original  germ  of  life,  alone  and  forsaken ;  and  over  him 
a  spider  skilfully  spins  its  web.  At  first  he  is  angry  with  the 
busy  insect,  and  tears  down  the  web;  but  the  insect  begins  again 
patiently.  And  this  suddenly  becomes  a  consolatory  lesson  to 
him  never  to  give  up;  he  becomes  fond  of  the  little  vigilant 
creature  that  makes  its  web  as  skilfully  as  if  it  had  a  great  re- 
sponsibility, and  he  asks  himself  whether  it  is  at  all  conscious 
of  his  existence.  Is  it  sorry  for  him  in  his  forsaken  condition, 
since  it  does  not  move  to  another  place,  but  patiently  builds  its 
web  up  again,  finer  and  finer,  as  if  it  had  only  been  torn  down 
because  it  was  not  made  well  enough?  He  bitterly  regrets  his 
conduct,  and  would  give  much  for  a  sign  that  the  little  insect 
is  not  angry  with  him,  for  no  one  can  afford  to  offend  another ; 
even  the  smallest  creature  is  of  vital  importance  to  you.    In  the 


394  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

loneliness  of  the  prison  cell  you  learn  solidarity.  And  one  day 
when  he  is  sitting  readings  the  spider,  in  its  busy  efforts  to  carry 
its  thread  past  him,  drops  down  and  uses  his  shoulder  as  a  tem- 
porary attachment  Never  before  has  such  confidence  been 
shown  him  notwithstanding  everything;  the  little  insect  knew 
how  a  hardened  criminal  should  be  taken.  It  taught  him  that 
he  had  both  a  heart  and  a  soul  to  take  care  of.  A  greeting  to 
his  comrades  from  the  great  silence  that  was  waiting  to  speak 
to  them  one  by  one. 

He  spoke  from  the  depths  of  his  soul,  and  saw  surprise  in 
their  faces.  What  in  the  world  did  he  want?  Did  he  want 
them  all  to  go  to  prison  only  because  he  himself  had  been  there  ? 
Was  that  all  that  was  left  of  tiie  old  Pelle — ^lightning,  as  he 
was  then  called?  He  was  certainly  rather  weak  in  the  legs; 
there  wasnH  much  of  his  eloquence  left  I  They  quickly  lost 
interest  and  began  to  talk  together  in  undertones;  there  came 
only  a  little  desultory  applause  here  and  there  from  the 
comers. 

Pelle  felt  the  disappointment  and  indifference,  and  smiled. 
He  no  longer  had  need  of  storms  of  approbation ;  he  listened  for 
it  now  within  himself.  This  much  he  had  learned  by  standing 
up  there,  namely,  that  he  had  not  done  with  the  men  below; 
he  was,  in  fact,  only  just  beginning  with  them.  His  work  had 
been  swept  away:  wdl  then  he  would  build  up  a  new  one  that 
was  better.  He  had  sat  in  his  prison-cell  and  learned  long- 
suffering. 

He  took  a  seat  below  the  platform  among  the  leaders  of  the 
meeting,  and  felt  that  he  was  really  a  stranger  there.  It  was 
out  of  compassion  they  had  drawn  him  into  the  meeting;  he 
read  in  their  eyes  that  the  work  that  had  been  done  was  done 
without  him,  and  that  he  came  at  an  inopportune  moment 
Would  they  have  to  reckon  with  him,  the  hare-brained  fellow, 
now  again,  or  did  he  mean  to  emigrate  ?  Alas,  he  did  not  give 
much  impetus  to  the  Movement  1  but  if  they  only  knew  how 
much  wisdom  he  had  gained  in  his  solitude  I 

He  did  not  talk,  but  looked  on  absently,  trying  to  listen 
through  the  noise  for  something  lasting.  They  laughed  and 
drank  and  made  speeches — ^for  him  too;  but  all  this  was  so 
unnecessary!     They  had  gained  confidence,  they  spoke  quite 


■■I 
! 

J 


DAYBREAK  395 

openly,  there  was  a  certain  emancipation  in  their  g^eral  he- 
havior;  taken  as  a  whole,  they  made  a  good  impression.  Bnt 
the  miracle  ?  the  incomprehensible  ?  He  missed  a  little  anxiety 
behind  the  prosperity,  the  deep,  silent  pondering  that  wonld 
show  that  they  had  gazed  into  a  new  world.  Did  they  not  hear 
the  undertone  at  all,  since  they  were  making  such  a  noise — ^the 
tmceasing,  soft  rhythm  that  was  in  his  own  ears  continually 
and  contained  the  whole  *thing?  The  stillness  of  the  cell  had 
made  his  hearing  acute;  the  boisterous  laughter,  which  expressed 
their  pleasure  in  life,  caused  him  suffering. 

Beside  a  large  blackboard  on  the  platform  stood  one  of  the 
leaders,  writing  up  the  victories  of  the  day,  amid  the  rejoicing 
of  the  crowd.  Pelle  slipped  out  unnoticed,  and  was  standing  on 
the  steps,  breathing  in  the  quiet  night  air,  when  a  young  man 
came  up  to  him  and  held  out  his  hand.  It  was  his  brother-in- 
law,  Prederik  Stolpe.  'TE  just  wanted  to  wish  you  welcome 
back,*'  he  said,  ''and  to  thank  you  for  what  you  said  in  there.'* 

*^ow  is  Ellen  P*  Pelle  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

''She's  only  pretty  well.  She  lives  at  20,  Victoria  Street, 
and  takes  in  washing.  I  think  she  would  be  glad  to  see  you." 
He  looked  searchingly  at  Pelle.  "If  you  like,  i  can  easily  ar- 
range for  you  to  meet  at  my  place." 

'Tliank  you !"  Pelle  answered,  "but  111  go  out  to  her  early 
to-morrow  morning."  He  no  longer  needed  to  go  by  circuitous 
routes. 


n 

Pellb  was  awakened  by  a  distant  sound  resanbling  thunder, 
that  came  nearer  and  nearer  out  of  the  night  and  kept  close  to 
the  prison.  He  lay  still  and  listened  shudderingly  in  the  hope 
of  hearing  the  reassuring  step  of  tiie  watchman  passing  his  door, 
while  fancies  chased  one  another  in  his  heavy  head  like  riderless 
horses.  The  hollow,  threatening  sound  grew  .ever  louder  and 
clearer,  imtil  it  suddenly  shattered  the  stillness  of  the  night 
with  a  thunderous  roar,  which  seemed  to  bring  everything  crash- 
ing down.  It  was  as  tiiough  a  great  gulf  had  opened  and 'swal- 
lowed everything. 

In  one  panic-stricken  bound  he  was  at  the  window,  his  heart 
beating  tumultuously;  but  the  next  moment  he  was  ashamed  of 
his  mistake.  It  bad  been  the  same  terrifying  Doomsday  that  he 
had  dreaded  in  the  days  of  his  childhood,  when  the  lightning 
zig-zagged  among  the  rocks  at  home;  and  yet  it  was  nothing  but 
the  noise  of  the  first  farm-carts  as  they  passed  from  the  high- 
road onto  the  stone  paving  of  the  town.  It  was  the  solitude 
brooding  in  his  imagination,  making  it  start  in  fear  at  every 
soimd.    But  that  would  wear  off. 

He  stretched  himself  and  shook  off  the  nightmare.  Free! 
No  gaoler  was  coming  like  a  bad  spirit  to  shatter  the  nighf  s 
happy  dream  of -freedom.  He  was  free  I  His  pallet  had  not  to 
be  hooked  up  to  the  wall  at  a  certain  hour ;  he  could  lie  as  long 
as  he  wanted  to,  the  whole  day,  if  he  liked.  But  now  he  had 
more  important  things  to  do;  Ufe  was  waiting.  He  hastily  put 
on  his  clothes. 

In  the  street  the  lamplighter  was  lighting  every  other  lamp. 
And  endless  procession  of  carts  was  pouring  in  from  the  coun- 
try to  supply  the  town.    Pelle  threw  open  the  window  and  looked 

896 


DAYBEBAK  397 

out  over  the  wakening  city  while  he  dressed  himself.  He  was 
accustomed  to  sleep  in  a  silence  that  was  only  broken  by  the 
soft  squeaking  of  the  mice  under  the  heat-grating;  and  the 
night-noises  of  the  city — ^the  rumble  of  the  electric  trams^  the 
shouts  of  night-wanderers — ^all  these  imwonted  sounds  that 
pierced  the  darkness  so  startlingly^  had  filled  his  sleep  with 
feverish  dreams  and  caused  a  series  of  ugly,  deformed  visions 
to  pass  through  his  brain. 

He  now  felt  quite  rested,  however,  and  greeted  the  city  with 
awakened  pleasure.  Yes,  he  had  slept  more  than  sufiiciently; 
the  noise  called  him  and  he  must  go  down  and  give  a  helping 
hand  to  keep  it  going.  For  years  he  had  done  nothing  but 
hoard ;  now  he  would  set  to  work  again  with  strength  and  cour- 
age. As  soon  as  he  was  dressed  he  went  out.  It  was  too  early 
to  visit  Ellen,  but  he  could  not  bear  to  stay  in  any  longer.  It 
was  early  morning.  The  first  tram-car  came  in,  filled  with 
workmen,  some  even  hanging  on  to  the  steps  both  of  the  motor- 
wagon  and  the  two  cars  following  it.  And  there  was  the  first 
peasant  with  milk :  they  were  not  even  up  yet  in  the  ice-dairy  1 
Every  quarter  of  an  hour  trams  came  in  with  workmen,  and 
the  market-carts  continued  to  drive  in  from  the  coimtry  laden 
with  'Vegetables,  com  or  pigs'  carcases.  The  street  was  like  a 
feeding-tube  through  which  nourishment  was  continually  being 
drawn  into  the  city. 

On  the  top  of  swaying  loads  of  straw  sat  Zealand  peasants 
nodding.  They  had  come  aU  the  way  from  the  Frederikssund 
quarter,  and  had  been  driving  all  night.  Here  and  there  came 
a  drover  with  a  few  animals  intended  for  the  catUe-market.  The 
animals  did  not  like  the  town,  and  constantly  became  restive, 
hitching  themselves  round  lamp-posts  or  getting  across  the 
tram-lines.  The  newspaper-women  trudged  from  street-door  to 
street-door  with  their  aprons  laden  with  morning  papers,  and  he 
heard  them  toiling  up  the  stairs  as  though  their  feet  were 
weighted  with  lead.  And  beneath  all  this  could  be  heard 
the  endless  tramp-tramp  of  workmen  hastening  to  their 
work. 

There  was  a  peculiarly  familiar  sound  in  those  footsteps, 
which  suddenly  reminded  him  that  he  no  longer  belonged  to 
their  party,  but  had  marked  out  his  own  way  for  good  and  evil. 


398  PELLE   THE   CONQUBEOE 

Why  was  he  not  still  a  small,  impersonal  fraction  of  this  great 
stream  which  day  after  day  mechanically  followed  the  same 
round  in  the  mill?  Solitude  had  made  his  view  of  mankind  a 
new  and  wondering  one;  he  now^  in  every  strange  face  he  met^ 
involuntarily  sought  for  a  little  of  tiiat  which  makes  each  indi- 
vidual a  world  in  himself.  But  these  men  were  all  alike,  he 
thought;  they  came  hurrying  out  of  the  darkness  of  the  side 
streets,  and  were  not  fully  awake  and  steady  on  their  feet  until 
they  joined  the  throng,  but  then  they  did  walk  capitally.  He 
recognized  the  firm  beat  again:  he  had  himself  taught  it  to 
them. 

Daylight  came  stealing  in  ovei:  Vesterbro,  gray  and  heavy 
with  spring  moisture  and  the  city  smoke.  That  part  of  tl^ 
town  was  not  quite  awake  yet;  the  step  sounding  in  the  main 
street  was  that  of  the  belated  night-wanderer.  He  turned  down 
Victoria  Street,  looking  about  him  in  surprise;  he  had  never 
been  here  before.  He  read  the  door-plates:  Artists'  Bureau, 
Artisen  Heim,  Lodging  for  Artists,  Masseur  &  Chiropodist,  Cos- 
tumes for  Hire.  Most  of  the  announcements  were  in  foreign 
languages.  There  was  also  a  Gymnasium  for  Equilibrists  and 
a  Conservatorium  for  Singing  and  Music,  Dancing  and  Deport- 
ment. Nor  did  there  seem  to  be  a  scarcity  of  pawnbrokers  and 
dealers  in  second-hand  goods.  How  had  Ellen  drifted  into  tiiis 
strange  atmosphere  of  perfumes  and  old  clothes  and  foreign 
countries?  Behind  the  windows  in  the  low  rooms  he  saw  won- 
derful dresses  thrown  over  chair-backs — ^burnouses  and  red 
fezes;  and  a  little  dark  figure  with  a  long  pigtail  and  bare  feet 
in  yellow  slippers,  glided  noiselessly  past  him  in  the  old- 
fashioned,  palatial  doorway  of  No.  20. 

He  mounted  the  stairs  with  a  beating  heart.  The  steps  were 
worn  and  groaned  ominously  when  trodden  on.  The  door  of  the 
fiat  stood  ajar,  and  he  heard  the  sound  of  sweeping  in  the 
front  room,  while  farther  in  a  child  was  talking  to  itself  or  its 
doll.  He  had  to  stand  a  little  while  on  the  landing  to  take 
breath  and  to  regain  his  composure.  *  . 

Ellen  was  sweeping  imder  the  sofa  with  quick  movements. 
She  rose  and  gazed  at  him  in  bewUderment;  the  broom  fell  from 
her  hand  and  she  swayed  to  and  fro.  Pelle  caught  her,  and  she 
leaned  inert  and  helpless  against  him,  and  remained  thus  for  a 


DAYBREAK  399 

considerable  time^  pale  and  with  cbsed  eyes.  When  at  last  he 
turned  her  inanimate  face  toward  him  and  kissed,  it^  she  burst 
into  tears. 

He  spoke  gently  and  reassuringly  to  her  as  to  a  child.  She 
kept  her  eyes  closed^  as  she  had  always  done  when  anything  over- 
whelmed her.  She  lay  back  on  his  arm^  and  he  felt  her  body 
tremble  at  the  soimd  of  his  voice.  Her  tears  seemed  to  soften 
her,  and  from  the  yielding  of  her  body  now  he  could  see  how 
stiffly  she  nmst  have  held  herself,  and  was  filled  with  joy.  It 
had  all  been  for  his  sake,  and  with  a  tremendous  effort  of  her 
will  she  had  defied  fate  until  he  came.  She  now  placed  it  all  at 
his  feet  and  lay  prostrate.  How  tired  she  must  be !  But  now 
she  and  the  children  should  have  a  good  time;  he  would  live  for 
her  now  I 

He  had  laid  her  on  the  sofa  and  sat  bending  over  her  and 
telling  her  quietly  how  he  had  repented  and  longed  for  her. 
She  made  no  answer,  but  held  his  hand  in  a  convulsive  grasp, 
now  and  then  opening  her  eyes  and  stealing  a  glance  at  him. 
Suddenly  she  discovered  how  worn  and  lined  his  face  was,  and 
as  she  passed  her  hand  over  it  as  if  to  soften  the  features,  she 
broke  into  a  storm  of  weeping. 

^TTou  have  suffered  so,  Pellel*'  she  exclaimed  vehemently, 
passing  her  trembling  fingers  through  his  iron-gray  hair.  *T[ 
can  feel  by  your  poor  head  how  badly  they've  treated  you.  And 
I  wasn't  even  with  youl  If  I  could  only  do  something  really 
nice  to  make  you  look  happy  !'* 

She  drew  his  head  down  onto  her  bosom  and  stroked  it  as  a 
mother  might  her  child's,  and  Pelle's  face  changed  as  would  a 
child's  when  taken  to  its  mother's  breast.  It  was  as  though  the 
well  of  life  flowed  through  him,  the  hardness  of  his  expression 
disappeared,  and  life  and  warmth  took  its  place.  ^1  didn't 
think  you'd  come  back  to  us,"  said  Ellen.  *^ver  since  Lasse 
Prederik  met  you  yesterday  I've  been  expecting  you  to 
come." 

Pelle  suddenly  noticed  how  exhausted  she  looked.  **Haven't 
you  been  to  bed  all  night?"  he  asked. 

She  smilingly  shook  her  head.  '1  had  to  take  care  that  the 
street-door  wasn't  locked.  Whenever  any  one  came  home,  I  ran 
down  and  unlocked  it  again.    You  mustn't  be  angry  with  the 


400  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

boy  for  being  afraid  of  you  just  at  first.  He  was  sorry  for  it 
afterward,  and  ran  about  the  town  all  the  evening  t^ing  to 
find  you.'' 

A  clear  child's  voice  was  calling  from  the  bedroom  more  and 
more  persistently :    ^^an !    Good-morning,  man !" 

It  was  Sister,  sitting  up  in  Ellen's  bed  and  playing  with  a 
feather  that  she  had  pulled  out  of  the  comer  of  the  down-quilt. 
She  readily  allowed  herself  to  be  kissed,  and  sat  there  wiih 
pouting  mouth  and  the  funniest  little  wrinkled  nose.  You're 
man !"  she  said  insinuatingly. 

•TTes,  that's  true  enough,"  answered  Pelle,  laughing:  *T)ut 
what  man  ?" 

*'Man !"  she  repeated,  nodding  gravely. 

Sister  shared  Ellen's  bed  now.  At  the  foot  of  the  big  bed 
stood  her  own  little  cot,  which  had  ako  been  Lasse  Frederik's, 

and  in  it  lay .    Well,  Pelle  turned  to  the  other  side  of  the 

room,  where  Lasse  Frederik  lay  snoring  in  a  small  bed,  with  one 
arm  beneath  his  head.  He  had  kicked  off  the  quilt,  and  lay  on 
his  stomach  in  a  deep  sleep,  with  his  limbs  extended  carelc^y. 
The  little  fellow  was  well  built,  thought  Pelle. 

''Now,  lazy-bones,  you'd  better  be  thinking  of  getting  up !" 
cried  Pelle,  pulling  him  by  the  leg. 

The  boy  turned  slowly.  When  he  saw  his  father,  he  instantly 
became  wide  awake,  and  raised  his  arm  above  his  head  as  though 
to  ward  off  a  blow. 

'There's  no  box  on  the  ears  in  the  air,  my  boy,"  said  Pelle, 
laughing.    "The  game  only  begins  to-day  I" 

Lasse  Frederik  continued  to  hold  his  arm  in  the  same  posi- 
tion, and  lay  gazing  indifferently  out  into  the  front  room,  as  if 
he  had  no  idea  to  what  his  father  was  referring;  but  his  face 
was  scarlet. 

'Don't  you  even  say  good-morning  to  your  father?"  said 
Ellen,  whereupon  he  sullenly  extended  his  hand  and  then  turned 
his  face  to  the  wall.  He  was  vexed  at  his  behavior  of  the  day 
before,  and  perhaps  expected  a  blowing-up.  On  a  nail  above 
his  head  htmg  his  blouse  and  cap. 

"Is  Lasse  Frederik  a  milk-boy?"  asked  Pelle. 

"Yes,"  said  Ellen,  "and  he's  very  good  at  it.  The  drivers 
praise  him." 


DAYBEEAK  401 

*T[sn't  he  going  to  get  up  then,  and  go?  Fve  met  several 
milk-carts.'* 

''No,  for  we're  on  strike  just  now,**  mnrmtired  the  boy  with- 
out turning  round. 

Pelle  became  quite  interested.  ''What  fellows  you  are  1  So 
you're  on  strike,  are  you  ?    What's  it  for — ^is  it  wages  ?" 

The  boy  had  to  explain,  and  gradually  turned  his  face  round, 
but  did  not  look  at  his  f  alher. 

Ellen  stood  in  the  doorway  and  listened  to  them  smilingly. 
She  looked  frail.    "Lasse  Prederik's  the  leader,"  she  said  gently. 

"And  he's  lying  here  instead  of  being  out  on  the  watch  for 
blacklegs?"  exclaimed  Pelle  quite  irritably.  "You're  a  nice 
leader !" 

"Do  you  suppose  any  boy  would  be  so  mean  as  to  be  a  black- 
leg ?"  said  Lasse  PrederOc.  "No,  indeed  1  But  people  fetch  their 
own  milk  from  the  carts." 

"Then  you  must  get  the  drivers  to  join  you." 

"No,  we  don't  belong  to  a  real  union,  so  they  won't  sup- 
port us." 

"Well  then,  make  a  union !  Get  up,  boy,  and  don't  lie  there 
snoring  when  there's  anything  of  this  sort  on  I  Do  you  imagine 
that  anything  in  this  world  is  to  be  got  by  sleeping?" 

The  boy  did  not  move.  He  did  not  seem  to  think  there  was 
any  reason  for  taking  his  father  very  seriously;  but  he  met  a 
reproachful  look  from  Ellen,  and  he  was  out  of  bed  and  dressed 
in  a  trice.  While  they  sat  in  the  front  room,  drinking  their 
coffee,  Pelle  gave  him  a  few  hints  as  to  how  he  should  proceed 
in  the  matter.  He  was  greatly  interested,  and  went  thoroughly 
into  the  subject;  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  it  were  only  yester- 
day that  he  had  occupied  himself  with  the  people.  How  many 
pleasant  memories  of  the  fight  crowded  into  his  mind!  And 
now  every  child  knew  that  the  meanest  thing  on  earth  was  to 
become  a  blackleg  I  How  he  had  fought  to  make  even  intelligent 
fellow-workmen  tmderstand  this !  It  was  quite  comical  to  think 
that  the  strike — ^which  filled  the  workmen  with  horror  the  first 
time  he  had  employed  it — ^was  now  a  thing  that  children  made 
use  of.  Time  passed  with  a  fleet  foot  out  here  in  the  day;  and 
if  you  wanted  to  keep  pace  you  must  look  sharp  I 

When  the  boy  had  gone,  Ellen  came  to  Pelle  and  stroked  his 


40»  PELLB   THE   CONQUEEOR 

hair,  ^^eloome  home  I"  she  said  softly,  and  kissed  his  fnrrowed 
brow. 

He  pressed  her  hand.  Thank  you  for  having  a  home  for 
me/'  he  answered,  looking  into  her  eyes;  ^%r  if  yon  hadnt,  I 
tiiink  I  shonld  have  gone  to  the  dogs.'' 

'The  boy  has  had  his  share  in  that,  yon  knowl  He's  worked 
well,  or  it  might  have  gone  badly  wiih  me  many  a  time.  Yon 
mustn't  be  angry  with  him,  Pelle,  even  if  he  is  a  little  sullen 
to  you.  You  must  remember  how  much  he's  gone  through  with 
the  other  boys.    Sometimes  he's  come  home  quite  disheartened." 

'^Because  of  me?"  asked  Pelle  in  a  low  voice. 

'rTes,  for  he  couldn't  bear  them  to  say  anything  about  yoxL 
At  one  time  he  was  always  fighting,  but  now  I  think  he's  taught 
them  to  leave  him  alone;  for  he  never  gave  in.  But  it  may 
have  left  its  marks  on  him." 

She  lingered  by  him;  there  was  something  she  wanted  to 
say  to  him,  but  she  had  a  difiSculty  in  beginning.  ''What  is 
it?"  he  asked,  in  order  to  help  her,  his  heart  beating  rapidly. 
He  would  have  liked  to  get  over  this  without  speech. 

She  drew  him  gently  into  the  bedroom  and  up  to  the  little 
ooi    "You  haven't  looked  at  Boy  Comfort,"  she  said. 

He  bent  in  embarrassment  over  the  little  boy  who  lay 
and  gazed  at  him  with  large,  serious  eyes.  "You  must  give 
me  a  little  time,"  he  said. 

"If  s  little  Marie's  boy,"  said  Ellen,  with  a  peculiar  in- 
tonation. 

He  stood  up  quickly,  and  looked  in  bewilderment  at  her. 
It  was  a  little  while  before  he  comprehended. 

"Where  is  Marie?"  he  asked  with  difiBculty. 

"She's  dead,  Pelle,"  answered  Ellen,  and  came  to  his  aid 
by  holding  out  her  hand  to  him.  "She  died  when  the  child 
was  bom." 

A  gray  shadow  passed  across  Pelle's  face. 


m 

The  house  in  which  Pelle  and  his  wife  lived — ^the  *Talace/' 
the  inhabitants  of  the  street  called  it — was  an  old,  tumble-down, 
three-storied  building  with  a  mansard  roof.  T7p  the  middle 
of  the  facade  ran  the  remains  of  some  fluted  pilasters  through 
the  two  upper  stories,  making  a  handsome  frame  to  the  small 
windows.  The  name  *Talace'*  had  not  been  given  to  the 
house  entirely  without  reason;  the  old  woman  who  kept  the 
ironmonger's  shop  in  the  back  building  could  remember  that 
in  her  childhood  it  had  been  a  general's  country-house,  and 
stood  quite  by  itself.  At  that  time  the  shore  reached  to  where 
Isted  Street  now  runs,  and  the  fruit-gardens  went  right  into 
Council  House  Square.  Two  ancient,  worm-eaten  apple-trees, 
relics  of  that  period,  were  still  standing  squeezed  in  among 
the  back  buildings. 

Since  then  the  town  had  pushed  the  fruit-gardens  a  couple 
of  miles  farther  back,  and  in  the  course  of  time  side  streets 
had  been  added  to  the  bright  neighborhood  of  Vesterbro — ^nar- 
row, poor-men's  streets,  which  sprang  up  round  the  scattered 
country-houses,  and  shut  out  the  light;  and  poor  people,  artistes 
and  street  girls  ousted  the  owners  and  turned  the  luxuriant 
summer  resort  into  a  motley  district  where  booted  poverty  and 
shoeless  intelligence  met. 

The  'Talace"  was  the  last  relic  of  a  vanished  age.  The  re- 
mains of  its  former  grandeur  were  still  to  be  seen  in  the  smoke- 
blackened  stucco  and  deep  windows  of  the  attics;  but  the  large 
rooms  had  been  broken  up  into  sets  of  one  or  two  rooms  for 
people  of  small  means,  half  the  wide  landing  being  boarded  off 
for  coal-cellars. 

From  Pelle's  little  two-roomed  flat,  a  door  and  a  couple  of 
steps  led  down  into  a  large  room  which  occupied  the  entire 

408 


404  PELLE   THE   CONQXJEBOR 

upper  floor  of  the  side  buildings  and  was  not  unlike  the  mins 
of  a  former  banqueting-hall.  The  heavy,  smoke-blackened  ceil- 
ing went  right  up  under  the  span  roof  and  had  once  been  deco- 
rated; but  most  of  the  plaster  had  now  fallen  down,  and  the 
beams  threatened  to  follow  it. 

The  huge  room  had  been  utilized,  in  the  course  of  time,  both 
as  a  brewery  and  as  a  warehouse ;  but  it  still  bore  the  stamp  of 
its  former  splendor.  The  children  of  the  property  at  any 
rate  thought  it  was  grand,  and  picked  out  the  last  remains  of 
panelling  for  kindling-wood,  and  would  sit  calling  to  one  an- 
other for  hours  from  the  high  ledges  above  the  brick  pillars, 
upon  which  there  had  once  stood  busts  of  famous  men. 

Now  and  again  a  party  of  Russian  or  Polish  emigrants  hired 
the  room  and  took  possession  of  it  for  a  few  nights.  They 
slept  side  by  side  upon  the  bare  floor,  each  using  his  bundle 
for  a  pillow;  and  in  the  morning  they  would  knock  at  the  door 
of  Ellen^s  room,  and  ask  by  gestures  to  be  allowed  to  come  to 
the  water-tap.  At  first  she  was  afraid  of  them  and  barricaded 
the  door  with  her  wardrobe  cupboard ;  but  the  thought  of  Pelle 
in  prison  made  her  sympathetic  and  helpfuL  They  were  poor, 
needy  beings,  whom  misery  and  misfortune  had  driven  from 
their  homes.  They  could  not  speak  the  language  and  knew 
nothing  about  the  world;  but  they  seemed,  like  birds  of  pas- 
sage, to  find  their  way  by  instinct.  In  their  blind  flight  it  was 
at  tiie  *Talace''  that  they  happened  to  alight  for  rest 

With  this  exception  the  great  room  lay  unused.  It  went 
up  through  two  stories,  and  could  have  been  made  into  several 
small  flats;  but  the  owner  of  the  property — an  old  peasant 
from  Olostrup — ^was  so  miserly  that  he  could  not  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  spend  money  on  it,  notwithstanding  the  great  advan- 
tage it  would  be  to  him.  Ellen  had  no  objection  to  this !  She 
drie<f  her  customers'  washing  there,  and  escaped  all  the  coal- 
dust  and  dirt  of  the  yard. 

Chance,  which  so  often  takes  the  place  of  Providence  in 
the  case  of  poor  people,  had  landed  her  and  her  children  here 
when  things  had  gone  wrong  with  them  in  Chapel  Road.  Ellen 
had  at  last,  after  hard  toil,  got  her  boot-sewing  into  good 
working  order  and  had  two  pupils  to  help  her,  when  a  long 
strike  came  and  spoiled  it  all  for  her.    She  struggled  against 


DAYBEEAK  405 

it  as  well  as  she  could^  but  one  day  they  came  and  carried  her 
bits  of  furniture  down  into  the  street.  It  was  the  old  story: 
Pelle  had  heard  it  several  times  before.  There  she  stood  with 
the  children,  mounting  guard  over  her  belongings  until  it 
grew  dark.  It  was  pouring  with  rain,  and  they  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  People  stopped  as  they  hurried  by,  asked  a  few 
questions  and  passed  on;  one  or  two  advised  her  to  apply  to 
the  committee  for  housing  the  homeless.  This,  however,  both 
Ellen  and  Lasse  Prederik  were  too  proud  to  do.  They  took  the 
little  ones  down  to  the  mangling-woman  in  the  cellar,  and 
themselves  remained  on  guard  over  their  things,  in  the  dull 
hope  that  something  would  happen,  a  hope  of  which  experience 
never  quite  deprives  the  poor. 

After  they  had  stood  there  a  long  time  something  really  did 
happen.  Out  of  Norrebro  Street  came  two  men  dashing  along 
at  a  tremendous  pace  with  a  four-wheeled  cart  of  the  kind  em- 
ployed by  the  poor  of  Copenhagen  when  they  move — ^preferably 
by  night— from  one  place  to  another.  One  of  the  men  was  at 
the  pole  of  the  cart,  while  the  other  pushed  behind  and,  when 
the  pace  was  at  its  height,  flimg  himself  upon  his  stomach  on  the 
cart,  putting  on  the  brake  with  the  toes  of  his  boots  upon 
the  road  so  as  to  twist  the  cart  into  the  gutter.  Upon  the 
empty  cart  sat  a  middle-aged  woman,  singing,  with  her  feet 
dangling  over  the  side;  she  was  big  and  wore  an  enormous 
hat  with  large  nodding  flowers,  of  the  kind  designed  to  at- 
tract the  male  sex.  The  party  zig-zagged,  shouting  and  sing- 
ing, from  one  side  of  the  street  to  the  other,  and  each  time  the 
lady  shrieked. 

'^There's  a  removing  cart  I**  said  Lasse  Prederik,  and  -as  he 
spoke  the  vehicle  pulled  up  in  the  gutter  just  in  front  of  them. 

''What  are  you  doing,  Thorvald?''  said  one  of  the  men;  then, 
staring  straight  into  Ellen's  face,  "Have  you  hurt  your  eye?'* 

The  woman  had  jumped  down  from  the  cart  "Oh,  get  out 
of  the  way,  you  ass  V^  she  said,  pushing  him  aside.  "Can't  you 
see  they've  been  turned  out?  Is  it  your  husband  thafs  chucked 
you  out?"  she  asked,  bending  sympathetically  over  Ellen. 

"No,  the  landlord's  turned  us  out  I"  said  Lasse  Prederik. 

"What  a  funny  little  figure!  And  you've  got  nowhere  to 
sleep  to-night?    Here,  Christian,  take  and  load  these  things 


406  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOB 

on  the  cart^  and  then  they  can  stand  under  the  gateway  at 
home  for  the  night    They^  be  qnite  spoilt  by  the  rain  here.*' 

^TTes/*  answered  Christian,  *'the  chair-legs  have  actually  be- 
gun to  take  root!''    The  two  men  were  in  a  boisterous  humor. 

'^ow  you  can  just  come  along  with  me/'  said  the  woman, 
when  the  things  were  piled  upon  the  cart,  ^'and  I'll  find  you  a 
place  to  sleep  in.  And  then  to-morrow  Providencell  perhaps 
be  at  home  himself  I'' 

''She's  a  street-woman/'  whispered  LasSe  Frederik  again 
and  again,  pulling  Ellen's  dress ;  but  Ellen  did  not  care  now,  if 
only  she  could  ^void  having  to  accept  poor  relief.  She  no 
longer  held  her  head  so  high. 

It  was  ''Queen  Theresa"  herself  they  had  met,  and  in  a 
sense  this  meeting  had  made  their  fortune.  She  helped  Ellen 
to  find  her  little  flat,  and  got  her  washing  to  do  for  the  girls 
of  the  neighborhood.  It  was  not  very  much,  though  the  girls 
of  Yesterbro  went  in  for  fine  clothes  as  far  as  they  could ;  but 
it  afforded  her  at  any  rate  a  livelihood. 

«  *  *  •  • 

Pelle  did  not  like  Ellen  going  on  with  all  this  dirty  work; 
he  wanted  to  be  the  one  to  provide  for  the  family.  Ellen 
moreover  had  had  her  turn,  and  she  looked  tired  and  as  if 
she  needed  to  live  a  more  comfortable  life.  It  was  as  iliough 
she  fell  away  now  that  he  was  there  and  able  once  more  to 
assume  the  responsibility;  but  she  would  not  hear  of  giving 
up  the  washing.  "If  s  never  worth  while  to  throw  away  the 
dirty  water  until  you've  got  the  clean !"  she  said. 

Every  morning  he  set  out  furnished  with  a  brand-new  trades- 
union  book,  and  went  from  workshop  to  workshop.  Times 
were  bad  for  his  branch  of  trade;  many  of  his  old  fellow-woric- 
men  had  been  forced  to  take  up  other  occupations — ^he  met  them 
again  as  conductors,  lamplighters,  etc.;  machinery  had  made 
them  unnecessary,  tiiey  said.  It  was  the  effect  of  the  great 
lodc-out;  it  had  killed  the  little  independent  businesses  that  had 
formerly  worked  with  one  or  two  men,  and  put  wind  into  the 
sails  of  large  industries.  The  few  who  could  manage  it  had 
procured  machines  and  become  manufacturers;  the  rest  were 
crowded  out  and  sat  in  out-of-the-way  basements  doing  re- 
pairs. 


DATBBBAK:  407 

To  set  to  work  again^on  the  old  conditions  was  what  had 
been  farthest  from  Pelle's  thoughts;  and  he  now  went  about 
and  offered  to  become  an  apprentice  again  in  order  to  serve 
his  new  master^  the  machinery,  and  was  ready  to  be  utilized  to 
the  utmost  But  the  manufacturers  had  no  use  for  him;  they 
still  remembered  him  toowelL  'HTouVe  been  too  long  away 
from  the  work/'  said  one  and  another  of  them  meaningly. 

WeD,  that  was  only  tit  for  tat;  but  he  felt  bitterly  how  even 
his  past  rose  up  against  him.  He  had  fought  and  sacrificed 
everything  to  improve  the  conditions  in  his  branch;  and  the 
machines  were  the  discouraging  answer  that  the  devebpment 
gave  to  him  and  his  fellows. 

He  was  not  alone  in  his  vain  search  in  this  bright  spring- 
time. A  number  of  other  branches  had  had  the  same  fate  as 
his  own.  Every  new  day  that  dawned  brought  him  into  a  stream 
of  men  who  seemed  to  be  condemned  to  wear  out  the  pavement 
in  their  hopeless  search  for  work — people  who  had  been  pushed 
out  by  the  machines  and  could  not  get  in  again.  'There  must 
be  something  wrong  with  them/'  Pelle  thought  while  he  stood 
and  listened  to  always  the  same  story  of  how  they  had  sud- 
denly been  dropped,  and  saw  the  rest  of  the  train  steaming 
away.  It  must  have  been  their  own  fault  that  they  were  not 
coupled  on  to  a  new  one ;  perhaps  they  were  lazy  or  drunkards. 
But  after  a  time  he  saw  good,  tried  men  standing  in  the  row, 
and  offering  their  powers  morning  after  morning  without  re- 
sult; and  he  began  to  realize  with  a  chill  fear  that  times  were 
changing. 

He  would  certainly  have  managed  to  make  both  ends  meet 
if  there  had  been  anything  to  be  got.  The  prices  were  all 
right;  their  only  defect  was  that  they  were  not  eatable.  Al- 
together it  seemed  as  if  a  change  for  the  worse  had  overtaken 
the  artisan;  and  to  make  it  still  more  serious  the  large  busi- 
nesses stood  in  the  way  of  his  establishing  himself  and  becom- 
ing independent.  There  was  not  even  a  back  door  left  open 
now!  Pelle  might  just  as  well  put  that  out  of  his  head  first 
a3  last;  to  become  a  master  now  required  capital  and  credit 
The  best  thing  that  the  future  held  was  an  endless  and  aim- 
less tramp  to  and  from  ihe  factory. 

At  one  stroke  he  was  planted  in  the  middle  of  the  old  ques- 


408  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

tion  again ;  all  the  circumstances  passed  before  him^  and  it  was 
useless  to  close  his  eyes.  He  was  willing  enough  to  mind  his 
own  affairs  and  did  not  seek  for  anything;  but  the  one  thing 
was  a  consequence  of  the  other^  and  wheilier  he  wished  it  or 
noty  it  united  in  a  general  view  of  the  conditions. 

The  union  had  stood  the  test  outwardly.  The  workmen  were 
well  organized  and  had  vindicated  their  right  to  negotiate; 
their  corporations  could  no  longer  be  disregarded.  Wages  were 
also  to  some  extent  higher,  and  the  feeling  for  the  home  had 
grown  in  the  workmen  themselves,  many  of  them  having  re- 
moved from  their  basements  into  new  two-  or  three-roomed 
flats,  and  bought  good  furniture.  They  demanded  more  from 
life,  but  everything  had  become  dearer,  and  they  still  lived 
from  hand  to  mouth.  He  could  see  that  the  social  development 
had  not  kept  pace  with  the  mechanical;  the  machines  wedged 
themselves  quietly  but  inexorably  in  between  the  workmen  and 
the  work,  and  threw  more  and  more  men  out  of  employment. 
The  hours  of  labor  were  not  greatly  shortened.  Society  did 
not  seem  to  care  to  protect  the  workers,  but  it  interested  it- 
self more  in  disabled  workmen  than  before,  and  provision  for 
the  poor  was  well  organized.  Pelle  could  not  discover  any 
law  that  had  a  regulating  effect,  but  found  a  whole  number  of 
laws  that  plastered  up  the  existing  conditions.  A  great  deal 
of  help  was  given,  always  just  on  the  borders  of  starvation; 
and  more  and  more  men  had  to  apply  for  it.  It  did  not  lob 
them  of  their  rights  as  citizens,  but  made  them  a  kind  of 
politically  kepi  proletariat. 

It  was  thus  that  the  world  of  adventure  which  Pelle  had 
helped  to  conquer  appeared  now  when  he  returned  and  looked 
at  it  with  new  eyes.  The  world  had  not  been  created  anew,  and 
the  Movement  did  not  seem  to  have  produced  anything  strong 
and  humanly  supporting.  It  seemed  as  if  the  workmen  would 
quietly  allow  themselves  to  be  left  out  of  the  game,  if  only 
they  received  money  for  doing  nothing!  What  had  become  of 
their  former  pride?  They  must  have  acquired  the  morals  of 
citizens,  since  they  willingly  agreed  to  accept  a  pension  for 
rights  surrendered.  They  were  not  deficient  in  power;  they 
could  make  the  whole  world  wither  and  die  without  shedding  a 
drop  of  blood,  olily  by  holding  together.    It  was  a  sense  of 


DAYBREAK  409 

responsibility  that  they  lacked;  they  had  lost  the  fundamental 
idea  of  the  Movement. 

Pelle  looked  at  the  question  from  all  sides  while  he  trudged 
up  and  down  in  his  vain  search.  The  prospect  obtruded  it- 
self upon  him^  and  there  were  forces  at  work,  both  within  and 
without,  trying  to  push  him  into  the  Movement  and  into  the 
front  rank  among  the  leaders,  but  he  repelled  the  idea :  he  was 
going  to  work  for  his  home  now. 

He  managed  to  obtain  some  repairs  for  the  neighbors,  and 
also  helped  Ellen  to  hang  up  clothes  and  turn  the  mangle. 
One  must  pocket  one's  pride  and  be  glad  she  had  something. 
She  was  glad  of  his  help,  but  did  not  want  any  one  to  see  him 
doing  this  woman's  work. 

'If s  not  work  for  a  man,**  she  said,  looking  at  him  with 
eyes  which  said  how  pleased  die  was  to  have  his  company. 

They  liked  being  together,  enjoyed  it  in  their  own  quiet 
way  without  many  words.  Much  had  happened,  but  neither 
Pelle  nor  Ellen  were  in  a  hurry.  Neither  of  them  had  a 
facility  in  speaking,  but  they  found  their  way  to  an  under- 
standing through  the  pauses,  and  drew  nearer  to  one  another 
in  the  silences.  Each  knew  what  the  other  had  suffered  with- 
out requiring  to  have  it  told :  time  had  been  at  work  on  them 
both. 

There  was  no  storm  in  their  new  companionjship.  The  days 
passed  quietly,  made  sad  by  the  years  that  had  gone  by.  In 
Ellen's  mind  was  neither  jubilation  nor  reproach.  She  was 
cautious  with  regard  to  him — almost  as  shy  as  the  first  time 
they  met;  behind  all  her  goodness  and  care  lay  the  same  touch 
of  maidenly  reserve  as  at  that  time.  She  received  his  caresses 
silently,  she  herself  giving  chiefly  by  being  something  for  him. 
He  noticed  how  every  little  homely  action  she  did  for  him  grew 
out  of  her  like  a  motherly  caress  and  took  him  into  her  heart. 
He  was  grateful  for  it,  but  it  was  not  that  of  which  he  stood 
most  in  need. 

When  they  sat  together  in  the  twilight  and  the  childreii 
played  upon  the  floor,  she  was  generally  silent,  stealing  glances 
at  him  now  and  then;  but  as  soon  as  he  noticed  these,  the 
depth  of  her  expression  vanished.  Was  she  again  searching  for 
his  inner  being  as  she  had  done  in  their  earliest  time  to* 


410  PELLE  THE   CONQUBBOB 

gether?  It  was  as  though  she  were  calling  to  something  with- 
in him^  but  would  not  reveal  herself.  It  was  thus  that  mother 
might  sit  and  gaze  searehingly  into  her  chfld's  fature.  Did 
she  not  love  him  then?  She  had  given  him  all  that  she  pos- 
sessed, borne  him  children,  and  had  faithfully  waited  for  him 
when  all  the  rest  of  the  world  had  cast  him  off;  and  yet  he 
was  not  sure  that  she  had  ever  loved  him. 

Pelle  had  never  met  with  love  in  the  form  of  something 
unmanageable;  the  Movement  had  absorbed  the  surplus  of  his 
youth.  But  now  he  had  been  bom  anew  together  with  the 
spring,  and  felt  it  suddenly  as  an  inward  power.  He  and 
Ellen  would  b^in  now,  for  now  she  was  everything!  Life 
had  taught  him  seriousness,  and  it  was  welL  He  was  horrified 
at  the  thoughtless  way  in  which  he  had  taken  Ellen  and  made 
her  a  mother  without  first  making  her  a  bride.  Her  woman's 
heart  must  be  immeasurably  large  since  she  had  not  gone  to 
pieces  in  consequence,  but  still  stood  as  unmoved  as  ever,  wait- 
ing for-  him  to  win  her.  She  had  got  through  it  by  being  a 
mother. 

Would  he  ever  win  her?  Was  she  really  waiting  still,  or 
was  she  contented  with  things  as  they  were? 

His  love  for  her  was  so  strong  that  everything  about  her 
was  transfigured,  and  he  was  happy  in  the  knowledge  that 
she  was  his  fate.  Merely  a  ribbon  or  a  worn  check  cotton 
apron — any  little  thing  that  belonged  to  her — acquired  a  won- 
derfully warm  hue,  and  filled  his  mind  with  sweetness.  A 
glance  or  a  touch  made  him  dizzy  with  happiness,  and  his  heart 
went  out  to  her  in  waves  of  ardent  longing.  It  awoke  no  re- 
sponse ;  she  smiled  gently  and  pressed  his  hand.  She  was  fond 
of  him  and  refused  him  nothing,  but  he  nevertheless  felt  that 
she  kept  her  innermost  self  hidden  from  him.  When  he  tried  to 
see  in,  he  found  it  closed  by  a  barrier  of  kindness. 


rv 

Pbllb  was  like  a  man  Tetnming  home  after  years  of  exile^ 
and  trying  to  bring  himself  into  personal  relations  with  every- 
thing; the  act  of  oblivion  was  in  force  only  up  to  the  threshold; 
the  real  thing  he  had  to  see  to  himself.  The  land  he  had  tilled 
was  in  other  hands,  he  no  longer  had  any  right  to  it;  but  it 
was  he  who  had  planted,  and  he  must  know  how  it  had  been 
tended  and  how  it  had  thriven. 

The  great  advance  had  taken  on  a  political  character.  The 
Movement  had  in  the  meantime  let  the  demand  of  the  poorest 
of  the  people  for  bread  drop,  and  thrown  them  over  as  one 
would  throw  over  ballast  in  order  to  rise  more  quickly.  The 
institutioiy  themselves  would  be  won,  and  th^  they  would  of 
course  come  back  to  the  starting-point  and  begin  again  quite 
differently.  It  might  be  rather  convenient  to  turn  out  tiiose 
who  most  hindered  the  advance,  but  would  it  lead  to  victory? 
It  was  upon  them  indeed  that  everything  turned!  Pelle  had 
thoroughly  learned  the  lesson,  that  he  who  thinks  he  will  outwit 
others  is  outwitted  himself.  He  had  no  faith  in  those  who 
would  climb  the  fence  where  it  was  lowest. 

The  new  tactics  dated  from  the  victorious  result  of  the  great 
conflict.  He  had  himself  led  the  crowds  in  triumph  through  the 
capital,  and  if  he  had  not  been  taken  he  would  probably  now 
be  sitting  in  parliament  as  one  of  the  labor  members  and 
symbolizing  his  promotion  to  citizenship.  But  now  he  was  out 
of  it  all,  and  had  to.choose  his  attitude  toward  the  existing  state 
of  things;  he  had  belonged  to  the  world  of  outcasts  and  had 
stood  face  to  face  vidth  the  irreconcilable.  He  was  not  sure 
that  the  poor  man  was  to  be  raised  by  an  extension  of  the 
ftTigfiTig  social  ethics.    He  himself  was  still  an  outlaw,  and 

411 


412  PELLE   THE   CONQXJEBOB 

would  probably  never  be  anything  else.  It  was  hard  to  stoop 
to  enter  the  doorway  through  which  you  had  once  been  thrown 
outy  and  it  was  hard  to  get  in.  He  did  not  intend  to  take  any 
steps  toward  gaining  admission  to  the  company  of  respectabfe 
men;  he  was  strong  enough  to  stand  alone  now. 

Perhaps  Ellen  expected  something  in  that  way  as  repara- 
tion for  all  the  wrong  she  had  suffered.  She  must  have  pa* 
tience  t  Pelle  had  promised  himself  that  he  would  make  her 
and  the  children  happy,  and  he  persuaded  himself  that  this 
would  be  best  attained  by  following  his  own  impulses. 

He  was  not  exactly  happy.  Pecuniarily  things  were  in  a 
bad  way,  and  notwithstanding  all  his  planning,  the  future  con- 
tinued to  look  uncertain.  He  needed  to  be  the  man,  the  bread- 
winner, so  that  Ellen  could  come  to  him  for  safety  and  shelter, 
take  her  food  with  an  untroubled  mind  from  his  hand,  and 
yield  herself  to  him  unresistingly. 

He  was  not  their  god ;  that  was  where  the  defect  lay.  This 
was  noticeable  at  any  rate  in  Lasse  Frederik.  There  was  good 
stuff  in  the  boy,  although  it  had  a  tang  of  the  street.  He  was 
an  energetic  fellow,  bright  and  pushing,  keenly  alert  with  re- 
gard to  everything  in  the  way  of  business.  Pelle  saw  in  him 
the  image  of  himself,  and  was  only  proud  of  him;  but  the  boy 
did  not  look  upon  him  with  unconditional  reUance  in  return. 
He  was  quick  and  willing,  but  nothing  more;  his  attitude  was 
one  of  trial,  as  if  he  wanted  to  see  how  things  would  turn  out 
before  he  recognized  the  paternal  relationship. 

Pelle  suffered  under  this  impalpable  distrust,  which  classed 
him  with  the  ^^ew  fathers''  of  certain  children ;  and  he  had  a 
feeling  that  was  at  the  same  time  painful  and  ridiculous,  that 
he  was  on  trial.  In  olden  days  the  matter  might  have  been 
settled  by  a  good  thrashing,  but  now  things  had  to  be  arranged 
so  that  ihey  would  be  lasting ;  he  could  no  longer  buy  cheaply. 
When  helping  Lasse  Frederik  in  organizing  the  milk-boys,  he 
pocketed  his  pride  and  introduced  features  from  the  great  con- 
flict in  order  to  show  that  he  was  good  for  something  too.  He 
could  see  from  the  boy's  expression  that  he  did  not  believe  much 
of  it,  and  intended  to  investigate  the  matter  more  closely.  It 
wotmded  his  sensitive  mind  and.  drove  him  into  himself. 

One  day,  however,  when  he  was  sitting  at  his  work,  Lasse 


I 


DAYBREAK  413 

Prederik  rushed  in.  *Tather,  tell  me  what  you  did  to  get  the 
men  that  were  locked  into  the  factory  out!''  he  cried  breath- 
lessly. 

^TTou  wouldn't  believe  it  if  I  did/*  said  Pelle  reproachfully. 

^TTes,  I  would;  for  they  called  you  the  Tjightning !"'  ex- 
claimed the  boy  in  tones  of  admiration.  '^And  they  had  to 
put  you  in  prison  so  as  to  get  rid  of  you.  The  milk-driver  told 
me  all  about  it !'' 

From  that  day  they  were  friends.  At  one  stroke  Pelle 
had  become  the  hero  of  the  boy's  existence.  He  had  shaved  off 
his  beard,  had  blackened  his  face,  and  had  gone  right  into  the 
camp  of  his  opponents,  and  nothing  could  have  been  finer.  He 
positively  had  to  defend  himself  from  being  turned  into  a 
regular  robber-captain  wifti  a  wide-awake  hat  and  top-boots  I 
Lasse  Prederik  had  a  lively  imagination! 

Pelle  had  needed  this  victory.  He  must  have  his  own  peo- 
ple safely  at  his  back  first  of  all,  and  then  have  a  thorough  set- 
tlement of  the  past.  But  this  was  not  easy,  for  little  Boy  Com- 
fort staggered  about  everywhere,  warped  himself  toward  him 
from  one  piece  of  furniture  to  another  with  his  serious  eyes 
fixed  steadily  upon  him,  and  crawled  the  last  part  of  the  way. 
Whenever  he  was  set  down,  he  instantly  steered  for  Pelle;  he 
would  come  crawling  in  right  from  the  kitchen,  and  would  not 
stop  until  he  stood  on  his  feet  by  Pelle's  leg,  looking  up  at  him. 
'^See  how  fond  he  is  of  you  already!"  said  Ellen  tenderly,  as 
she  put  him  down  in  the  middle  of  ^e  fioor  to  try  him.  ^'Take 
him  up!"  Pelle  obeyed  mechanically;  he  had  no  personal  feel- 
ing for  this  child;  it  was  indeed  no  child,  but  the  accusation 
of  a  grown-up  person  that  came  crawling  toward  him.  And 
there  stood  Ellen  with  as  tender  an  expression  as  if  it  were 
her  own  baby  I  Pelle  could  not  imderstand  how  it  was  that  she 
did  not  despise  him;  he  was  ashamed  whenever  he  thought  of  his 
struggle  to  reconcile  himself  to  this  '^ttle  cuckoo."  It  was 
a  good  thing  he  had  said  so  little  I 

His  inability  to  be  as  naturally  kind  to  the  child  as  she 
was  tormented  him;  and  when,  on  Saturday  evening,  she  had 
bathed  Boy  Comfort  and  then  sat  with  him  on  her  lap,  putting 
on  his  clean  clothes,  Pelle  was  overwhelmed  with  self-accusa- 
tion.   He  had  thoughtlessly  trodden  little  Marie  of  the  ''Ark" 


414  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOE 

imderfoot,  and  she  whom  he  had  cast  off  when  she  most  needed 
him^  in  return  passed  her  beneficent  hand  over  his  wrong-doing. 
As  though  she  were  aware  of  his  gloomy  thoughts,  she  went 
to  him  and  placed  the  warm,  naked  child  in  his  arms,  saying 
with  a  gentle  smile :  *T[8n't  he  a  darling  ?**  Her  heart  was  so 
large  that  he  was  almost  afraid;  she  really  took  more  interest 
in  this  child  than  in  her  own. 

*Tm  his  mother,  of  course  I*'  she  said  naturally.  **You  don't 
suppose  he  can  do  without  a  real  mother,  do  you?*' 

Marie's  fate  lay  like  a  shadow  over  Pelle's  mind.  He  had 
to  talk  to  Ellen  about  it  in  order  to  try  to  dispel  it,  but  she 
did  not  see  the  fateful  connection;  she  looked  upon  it  as  some- 
thing that  had  to  be.  'TTou  were  so  hunted  and  persecuted,'' 
she  said  quietly,  ''and  you  had  no  one  to  look  to.  So  it  had  to 
happen  like  that.  Marie  told  me  all  about  it  It  was  no  one's 
fault  that  she  was  not  strong  enough  to  bear  children.  The 
doctor  said  there  was  a  defect  in  her  frame;  she  had  an  in- 
ternal deformity."  Alas!  Ellen  did  not  know  how  much  a^ 
human  being  should  be  able  to  help,  and  she  herself  took  much 
more  upon  her  than  she  need. 

There  was,  nevertheless,  something  soothing  in  these  sober 
facts,  although  they  told  him  nothing  about  the  real  thing.  It 
is  impossible  to  bear  for  long  the  burden  of  the  irreparable, 
and  Pelle  was  glad  that  Ellen  dwelt  so  constantly  and  naturally 
on  Marie's  fate;  it  brought  it  within  the  range  of  ordinary 
tilings  for  him  too.  Marie  had  come  to  her  when  she  could  no 
longer  hide  her  condition,  and  Ellen  had  taken  her  in  and  kept 
her  until  she  went  to  the  lying-in  hospital.  Marie  knew  quite 
well  that  she  was  going  to  die — she  could  feel  it,  as  it  were — 
and  would  sit  and  talk  about  it  while  she  helped  Ellen  with 
hi;r  boot-sewing.  She  arranged  everything  as  sensibly  as  an 
experienced  mother. 

''How  old-fashioned  she  was,  and  yet  so  child-like  I"  Ellen 
would  exclaim  with  emotion.  * 

Pelle  could  not  help  thinking  of  his  life  in  the  "Ark"  when 
little  Marie  kept  house  for  him  and  her  two  brothers — a  care- 
ful housekeeper  of  eleven  years!  She  was  deformed  and  yet 
had  abundant  possibilities  within  her;  she  resembled  poverty 
itself.    Infected  by  his  young  strength,  she  had  shot  up  and 


DAYBEEAK  416 

unfolded  into  a  fair  maiden^  at  whom  the  young  dandies  tamed 
to  look  when  she  went  along  the  street  to  make  her  purchases. 
He  had  been  anxious  about  her^  alone  and  unprotected  as  she 
was;  and  yet  it  was  he  himself  who  had  beccmie  the  plunderer 
of  the  poor^  defenceless  girl.  Why  had  he  not  carried  his  cross 
alone^  instead  of  accepting  the  love  of  a  being  who  gave  herself 
to  him  in  gratitude  for  his  gift  to  her  of  the  joy  of  life?  Why 
had  he  been  obliged^  in  a  difficult  moment^  to  take  his  gift 
back?  Boy  Comfort  she  had  called  her  boy  in  her  innocent 
goodness  of  hearty  in  order  that  Pelle  should  be  really  fond  of 
him;  but  it  was  a  dearly-bought  Comfort  that  cost  the  life  of 
anotiierl    For  Pelle  the  child  was  almost  an  accusation. 

There  was  much  to  settle  up  and  some  things  that  could 
not  be  arranged  I  Pelle  sometimes  found  it  burdensome  enough 
to  be  responsible  for  himself. 

About  this  time  Morten  was  often  in  his  thoughts.  'Mor- 
ten has  disappointed  me  at  any  rate/'  he  thought;  '%e  could 
not  bear  my  prosperity  I''  This  was  a  point  on  which  Pelle 
had  right  upon  his  side  I  Morten  must  come  to  him  if  they 
were  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  one  another.  Pelle 
bore  no  malice,  but  it  was  reasonable  and  just  that  the  one  who 
was  on  the  top  should  first  hold  out  his  hand. 

In  this  way  he  thought  he  had  obtained  rest  from  that 
question  in  any  case,  but  it  returned.  He  had  taken  the  re- 
q>onsibility  upon  himself  now,  and  was  going  to  begin  by 
sacrificing  his  only  friend  on  a  question  of  etiquette  I  He  would 
have  to  go  to  him  and  hold  out  a  hand  of  reconciliation! 
This  at  last  seemed  to  be  a  noble  thought  I 
But  Pelle  was  not  allowed  to  feel  satisfied  with  himself  in 
ibis  eitiier.  He  was  a  prey  to  the  same  tormenting  unrest  that 
he  had  suffered  in  his  cell,  when  he  stole  away  from  his  work 
and  sat  reading  secretly — ^he  felt  as  if  there  were  always  an  eye 
at  the  peephole,  which  saw  everything  that  he  did.  He  would 
have  to  go  into  the  question  once  more. 

That  unselfish  Morten  envious?  It  was  true  he  had  not 
celebrated  Pellets  victory  with  a  fiourish  of  trumpets,  but  had 
preferred  to  be  his  conscience  1  That  was  reaUy  at  the  bottom 
of  it  He  had  intoxicated  himself  in  the  noise,  and  wanted  to 
find  something  with  which  to  drown  Morten's  quiet  warning 


416  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

voice^  and  ihe  accnsation  was  not  far  to  seek — envy  I    It  was  he 
himself,  in  fact,  who  had  been  the  one  to  disappoint. 

One  day  he  hunted  him  up.  Morten's  dwelling  was  not  diffi- 
cult to  find  out;  he  had  acquired  a  name  as  an  aulhor,  and  was 
often  mentioned  in  the  papers  in  connection  with  the  lower 
classes.  He  lived  on  the  South  Boulevard,  up  in  an  attic  as 
usual,  with  a  view  over  Kalvebod  Strand  and  Amager. 

''Why,  is  that  you?'*  he  said,  taking  Pelle's  hands  in  his 
and  gazing  into  his  stem,  furrowed  face  until  the  tears  filled 
his  eyes.  '1  say,  how  you  have  changed!"  he  whispered  half 
tearfully,  and  led  him  into  his  room. 

'1  suppose  I  have,*'  Pelle  answered  gloomily.  "I've  had  good 
reason  to,  anyhow.  And  how  h^ve  you  been?  Are  you  mar- 
ried?" 

'ITo,  I*m  as  solitary  as  ever.  The  one  I  want  still  doesn't 
care  about  me,  and  the  olhers  I  don't  want.  I  thought  you'd 
thrown  me  over  too,  but  you've  come  after  all." 

'1  had  too  much  prosperity,  and  that  makes  you  self- 
important." 

''Oh,  well,  it  does.  But  in  prison — ^why  did  you  send  my 
letters  back?    It  was  almost  too  hard." 

Pelle  looked  up  in  astonishment,  ^t  would  never  have 
occurred  to  the  prisoner  that  he  could  hurt  anybody,  so  you  do 
me  an  injustice  there,"  he  said.  "It  was  myself  I  wanted  to 
punish  1" 

Tou've  been  ill  then,  Pelle  1" 

"Yes,  ill !  You  should  only  know  what  one  gets  like  wh^i 
they  stifle  your  right  to  be  a  human  being  and  shut  you  in  be- 
tween four  bare  walls.  At  one  time  I  hated  blindly  the  whole 
world ;  my  brain  reeled  with  trying  to  find  out  a  really  crushing 
revenge,  and  when  I  couldn't  hit  others  I  helped  to  carry  out  the 
punishment  upon  myself.  There  was  always  a  satisfaction  in 
feeling  that  the  more  I  suffered,,  the  greater  devils  did  it  make 
the  others  appear.  And  I  really  did  get  a  hit  at  them;  they 
hated  with  all  their  hearts  having  to  give  me  a  transfer." 

"Wasn't  there  any  one  there  who  could  speak  a  comforting 
word — ^the  chaplain,  tiie  teachers  ?" 

Pelle  smiled  a  bitter  smile.  "Oh,  yes,  the  lash !  The  jailer 
couldn't  keep  me  under  discipline ;  I  was  what  they  call  a  diffi- 


DAYBEEAK  417 

cnli  prisoner.  It  wasn^t  that  I  didn^t  want  to,  but  I  had  quite 
lost  my  balance.  You  might  just  as  well  expect  a  man  to  walk 
steadily  when  everything  is  whirling  round  him.  They  saw,  I 
suppose,  that  I  couldn't  come  right  by  myself,  so  one  day  they 
tied  me  to  a  post,  pulled  my  shirt  up  over  my  head  and  gave  me 
a  thrashing.  It  sounds  strange,  but  that  did  it;  the  manner  of 
procedure  was  so  brutal  that  everything  in  me  was  struck  dumb. 
When  such  a  thing  as  that  could  happen,  there  was  nothing  more 
to  protest  against.  They  put  a  wet  sheet  roimd  me  and  I  was 
lifted  onto  my  pallet,  so  that  was  all  right.  For  a  week  I  had 
to  lie  on  my  face  and  couldn't  move  for  the  pain ;  the  slightest 
movement  made  me  growl  like  an  animal.  The  strokes  had  gone 
right  through  me  and  could  be  coimted  on  my  chest;  and  there 
I  lay  like  a  lump  of  lead,  struck  down  to  tiie  earili  in  open- 
mouthed  astonishment.  'This  is  what  they  do  to  human  beings  1* 
I  groaned  inwardly;  Hhis  is  what  they  do  to  human  beings  I'  I 
could  no  longer  comprehend  anything.'* 

Pelle's  face  had  become  ashen  gray;  all  the  blood  had  left  it, 
and  the  bones  stood  out  sharply  as  in  a  dead  face.  He  gulped 
two  or  three  times  to  obtain  control  over  his  voice. 

'*I  wonder  if  you  understand  what  it  means  to  get  a  thrash- 
ing!" he  said  hoarsely.  'Tire's  nothing;  I'd  rather  be  burnt 
alive  than  have  it  again.  The  fellow  doesn't  beat;  he's  not  the 
least  angry;  nobody's  angry  with  you;  they're  all  so  seriously 
grieved  on  your  accoimt.  He  places  the  strokes  carefully  down 
over  your  back  as  if  he  were  weighing  out  food,  almost  as  if  he 
were  fondling  you.  But  your  lungs  gasp  at  each  stroke  and  your 
heart  beats  wildly;  it's  as  if  a  thousand  pincers  were  tearing  aU 
your  fibers  and  nerves  apart  at  once.  My  very  entrails  con- 
tracted in  terror,  and  seemed  ready  to  escape  through  my  throat 
every  time  the  lash  f  elL  My  limgs  still  bum  when  I  think  of  it, 
and  my  heart  will  suddenly  contract  as  if  it  would  send  the 
blood  out  through  my  throat  Do  you  know  what  the  devilish 
part  of  corporal  pimishment  is?  It's  not  the  bodily  pain  that 
they  inflict  upon  the  culprit;  it's  his  inner  man  they  thrash — 
his  soul.  While  I  lay  there  brooding  over  my  mutilated  spirit, 
left  to  lick  my  infounds  like  a  wounded  animal,  I  realized  that  I 
had  been  in  an  encounter  with  tiie  evil  conscience  of  Society, 
the  victim  of  tiieir  hatred  of  those  who  suffer." 


418  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOE 

^0  you  remember  what  gave  occasion  to  the  ptmishment  ?* 
Morten  asked^  as  he  wiped  Ihe  perspiration  from  his  forehead. 

^Tt  was  some  little 'thing  or  olher — I  think  I  called  out. 
The  solitude  and  the  terrible  silence  got  upon  my  nerves^  and 
I  suppose  I  shouted  to  make  a  little  life  in  the  horrible  empti- 
ness. I  don't  remember  very  clearly^  but  I  think  that  was  my 
crime/' 

'HTou'd  have  been  the  better  anyhow  for  a  kind  word  from  a 
friend/'    Morten  was  still  thinking  of  his  despised  letters. 

^es,  but  the  atmosphere  of  a  cell  is  not  suited  for  friendly 
relations  with  the  outside  world.  You  get  to  hate  all  who  are 
at  liberty — ^those  who  mean  well  by  you  too — and  you  chop  off 
even  the  little  bit  of  branch  you're  sitting  on.  Perhaps  I  should 
never  have  got  into  touch  with  life  again  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
the  mice  in  my  ceU.  I  used  to  put  crumbs  of  bread  down  the 
grating  for  them,  and  when  I  lay  there  half  dead  and  brooding, 
they  ran  squeaking  over  my  hand.  It  was  a  caress  anyhow,  even 
if  it  wasn't  from  fellow-men." 

Morten  lived  in  a  small  two-roomed  flat  in  the  attics.  While 
they  sat  talking,  a  sound  came  now  and  then  from  the  other 
room,  and  each  time  a  nervous  look  came  into  Morten's  face, 
and  he  glanced  in  annoyance  at  the  dosed  door.  Gradually  he 
became  quite  restless  and  his  attention  was  fixed  on  these  sounds. 
Pelle  wondered  at  it,  but  asked  no  questions. 

Suddenly  there  came  the  sound  of  a  chair  being  overturned. 
Morten  rose  quickly  and  went  in,  shutting  the  door  carefully 
behind  him.  Pelle  heard  low  voices — Morten's  admonishing, 
and  a  thin,  refractory,  girlish  voice,  '^e's  got  a  girl  hidden  in 
there,"  thought  Pelle.    ^'d  better  be  off." 

He  rose  and  looked  out  of  Ihe  large  attic  window.  How 
everything  had  changed  since  he  first  came  to  the  capital  and 
looked  out  over  it  from  Morten's  old  lodging !  In  those  days  he 
had  had  dreams  of  conquering  it,  and  had  carried  out  his  plan 
too;  and  now  he  could  begin  from  Ihe  beginning!  An  entbely 
new  city  lay  spread  out  beneath  him.  Where  he  had  once  nm 
about  among  wharves  and  coal-bunkers,  there  now  stood  a  row 
of  palatial  buildings  with  a  fine  boulevard.  And  everything  out- 
side was  new;  a  large  working-men's  district  had  sprung  up 
where  there  had  once  been  timber-yards  or  water.    Bdow  him 


DAYBBEAE  419 

engines  were  drawing  rows  of  trucks  filled  with  ballast  across 
the  site  for  tiie  new  goods-station  yard;  and  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  harbor  a  new  residential  and  business  quarter  had  grown 
up  on  the  Iceland  Quay.  And  behind  it  all  lay  the  water  and 
the  green  land  of  Amager.  Morten  had  had  the  sense  to  select 
a  high  branch  for  himself  like  the  nightingales. 

He  had  got  together  a  good  number  of  books  again,  and  on 
his  writing-table  stood  photographs  of  well-known  men  with 
autograph  inscriptions.  To  all  appearances  he  seemed  to  make 
his  way  in  the  world  of  books.  Pelle  took  down  some  of  Mor- 
ten's own  works,  and  turned  over  their  leaves  with  interest.  He 
seemed  to  hear  Morten's  earnest  voice  behind  the  printed  words. 
He  would  b^in  to  read  him  now  1 

Morten  came  in.  'TTou're  not  going,  are  you?"  he  asked, 
drawing  his  hand  across  his  forehead.  '^Do  stay  a  little  while 
and  well  have  a  good  talk.  You  can't  think  how  I've  missed 
you  I"   He  looked  tired. 

**I*m  looking  forward  tremendously  to  reading  your  books," 
said  Pelle  enthusiastically.  ''What  a  lot  youVe  written  I  You 
haven't  given  that  up." 

'Terhaps  solitude's  taught  you  too  to  like  books,"  said 
Morten,  looking  at  him.  ^f  so,  you've  made  some  good  friends 
in  there,  Pelle.  All  that  there  isn't  worth  much;  ifs  only 
preliminary  worLr  Ifs  a  new  world  ours,  you  must  re- 
member." 

^  don't  think  The  Working  Man  cares  much  about  you." 

^0,  not  much,"  answered  Morten  slowly. 

"They  say  you  only  write  in  the  upper-class  papers." 

*Tf  I  didn't  I  should  starve.  They-  don't  grudge  me  my  food, 
at  any  rate!  Our  own  press  still  has  no  use  for  skirndshers, 
but  only  for  men  who  march  to  order  I" 

"And  ifs  very  difficult  for  you  to  subordinate  yourself  to 
any  one,"  said  Pdle,  smiling. 

"I  have  a  responsibility  to  those  above  me,"  answered  Morten 
proudly.  '^  I  give  the  blind  man  eyes  to  see  into  tiie  future, 
I  cant  let  myself  be  led  by  him.  Now  and  then  The  Working 
Man  gets  hold  of  one  of  my  contributions  to  the  upper-class 
press:  thafs  all  the  connection  I  have  with  my  .own  side.  My 
food  I  have  to  get  from  the  other  side  of  the  boundary,  and  lay 


420  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

niy  eggs  tiiere :  they're  pretty  hard  conditions.  Ton  cant  think 
how  often  I've  worried  over  not  being  able  to  speak  to  my  own 
people  except  in  roundabout  ways.  Well,  it  doesn't  matter  I  I 
can  afford  to  wait.  There's  no  way  of  avoiding  the  son  of  my 
father,  and  in  the  meantime  I'm  doing  work  among  the  upper 
classes.  I  bring  the  misery  into  the  life  of  the  happily-situated, 
and  disturb  their  quiet  enjojrment.  The  upper  classes  must  be 
prepared  for  the  revolution  too." 

''Can  they  stand  your  representations  ?"  asked  Pelle,  in  sur- 
prise. 

'Tes,  the  upper  classes  are  just  as  tolerant  as  the  common 
people  were  before  they  rose:  ifs  an  outcome  of  culture.  Some- 
times they're  almost  too  tolerant;  you  can't  quite  vouch  for 
their  words.  When  there's  something  they  don't  like,  they 
always  get  out  of  it  by  looking  at  it  from  an  artistic  point  of 
view." 

''How  do  you  mean?" 

"As  a  display,  as  if  you  were  acting  for  their  entertainment. 
Ifs  splendidly  done,'  they  say,  when  you've  laid  bare  a  little  of 
the  boundless  misery.  Ifs  quite  Russian.  Of  course  ifs  not 
real  at  all,  at  any  rate  not  here  at  home.'  But  you  always  make 
a  mark  on  some  one  or  other,  and  little  by  little  the  food  after 
all  becomes  bitter  to  their  taste,  I  think.  Perhaps  some  day  I 
shall  be  lucky  enough  to  write  in  such  a  way  about  the  poor  tliat 
no  one  can  leave  than  out.  But  you  yourself — ^whaf  s  your  atti- 
tude toward  matters?    Are  you  disappointed?" 

"Yes,  to  some  extent.  In  prison,  in  my  great  need,  I  left 
the  fulfilment  of  the  time  of  prosperity  to  you  otiiers.  All  the 
same,  a  great  change  has  taken  place." 

"And  you're  pleased  with  it?" 

"Everything  has  become  dearer,"  said  Pelle  slowly,  "and  un- 
employment seems  on  the  way  to  become  permanent." 

Morten  nodded.  "Thaf  s  the  answer  capital  gives,"  he  said. 
"It  multiplies  every  rise  in  wages  by  two,  and  puts  it  back  on 
the  workmen  again.  The  poor  man  can't  stand  very  many  vic- 
tories of  that  Irind." 

"Almost  the  worst  thing  about  it  is  the  development  of  snob- 
bery. It  seems  to  me  that  our  good  working  classes  are  being 
split  up  into  two — ^the  higher  professions,  which  will  be  taken 


DAYBREAK  421 

up  into  the  upper  classes;  and  the  proletariat^  which  wiU  be  left 
behind.  The  whole  thing  has  been  planned  on  too  smaU  a  scale 
for  it  to  get  very  far.** 

'You've  been  out  and  seen  something  of  the  world,  Pelle^^ 
said  Morten  significantly,    '^ou  must  teach  otiiers  now." 

'1  don't  understand  myself/'  answered  Pelle  evasively,  **and 
Fve  been  in  prison.    But  what  about  you?*' 

'1*m  no  good  as  a  rallier;  you've  seen  that  yourself.  They 
don't  care  about  me.  I'm  too  far  in  advance  of  the  great  body 
of  them,  and  have  no  actual  connection — ^you  know  I'm  reaUy 
terribly  lonely  I  Perhaps,  though,  I'm  destined  to  reach  the 
heights  before  you  others,  and  if  I  do  111  try  to  light  a  beacon 
up  there  for  you." 

Morten  sat  silent  for  a  little  while,  and  tiien  suddenly  lifted 
his  head. 

'^ut  you  must,  Pelle  1"  he  said.  ^TTou  say  you're  not  the 
right  man,  but  there's  simply  no  one  but  joxl  Have  you  for- 
gotten that  you  fired  the  Movement,  that  you  were  its  simple 
faith?  They  one  and  all  believed  in  you  blindly  like  children, 
and  were  capable  of  nothing  when  you  gave  up.  Why,  it's  not 
you,  but  the  others — ^the  whole  Movement — ^who've  been  im- 
prisoned I  How  glad. I  am  that  you've  come  back  full  of  the 
strength  gained  there!  You  were  smaller  than  you  are  now, 
Pelle,  and  even  then  something  happened;  now  you  may  be  suc- 
cessful even  in  great  things." 

Pelle  sat  and  listened  in  the  deepening  twilight,  wondering 
with  a  pleased  embarrassment.  It  was  Morten  who  was  nom- 
inating him — ^the  severe,  incorruptible  Morten,  who  had  always 
before  been  after  him  like  his  evil  conscience. 

'ITo,  I'm  going  to  be  careful  now,"  he  said,  *'and  if s  your 
own  fatdt,  Morten.  YouVe  gone  and  pricked  my  soul,  and  I'm 
awake  now;  I  shan't  go  at  anything  blindly  again.  I  have  a 
feeling  that  what  we  two  are  joining  in  is  the  greatest  thing  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  It  reaches  further  into  the  future  than  I 
can  see,  and  so  I'm  working  on  myself.  I  study  the  books  now — 
I  got  into  ihe  way  of  that  in  prison — and  I  must  try  to  get  a 
view  out  over  the  world.  Something  strange  too  has  happened 
to  me:  I  understand  now  what  you  meant  when  you  said  that 
man  was  holy  I    I'm  no  longer  satisfied  witii  being  a  small  part 


422  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

of  the  whoIe>  but  think  I  must  try  to  become  a  whole  world  by 
myself.  It  sounds  foolish^  but  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  one  of  the 
scales  and  the  rest  of  tiie  world  in  the  other;  and  until  I  can 
send  the  other  scale  up,  I  cant  think  of  putting  myself  at  tbe 
head  of  tiie  multitude.^ 

Evening  had  closed  in  before  they  were  aware  of  it.  The 
electric  light  from  the  railwaynrtation  yard  threw  its  gleam  upon 
the  ceiling  of  the  attic  room  and  was  reflected  thence  onto  the 
two  men  who  sat  leaning  forward  in  the  half -darkness,  talking 
quietly.  Neither  of  them  noticed  that  the  door  to  tiie  other 
room  had  opened,  and  a  tall,  thin  girl  stood  on  the  threshold 
gazing  at  them  with  dilated  pupils.  She  was  in  her  chemise 
only,  and  it  had  slipped  from  one  thin  shoulder;  and  her  feet 
were  bare.  The  chemise  reached  only  to  her  knees,  leaving  ex- 
posed a  pair  of  sadly  emaciated  legs.  A  wheezing  sound  accom- 
panied her  breathing. 

Pelle  had  raised  his  head  to  say  something,  but  was  silent 
at  sight  of  the  lean,  white  figure,  whidi  stood  looking  at  him 
with  great  eyes  that  seemed  to  draw  the  darkness  into  them. 
The  meeting  witii  Morten  had  put  him  into  an  expectant  frame 
of  mind.  He  still  had  the  call  sounding  in  his  ears,  and  gassed 
in  amazement  at  the  ghostly  apparition.  The  delicate  lines, 
spoiled  by  want,  the  expression  of  childlike  terror  of  tiie  daric — 
all  this  twofold  picture  of  wanness  stamped  with  the  stamp  of 
death,  and  of  an  unfulfilled  promise  of  beauty — ^was  it  not  the 
ghost  of  poverty,  of  wrong  and  oppression,  a  tortured  appari- 
tion sent  to  admonish  him?  Was  his  brain  failing?  Were  tlie 
horrible  visions  of  the  darkness  of  his  cell  returning?  'Mor- 
ten I^'  he  whispered,  touching  his  arm. 

Morten  sprang  up.  ^'Why,  Johanna  I  Aien^  you  ashamed 
of  yourself?''  he  exclaimed  reproachfully.  He  tried  to  make 
the  girl  go  back  into  tiie  other  room,  and  to  dose  the  door ;  but 
she  pushed  past  him  out  into  the  room. 

^  win  see  him  I''  she  cried  excitedly.  'Tl  you  dont  let  me, 
I  shall  run  away  1  He's  hidden  my  dothes,"  she  said  to  Pelld, 
gazing  at  him  witii  her  sunken  eyes.  '3ut  I  can  easily  run 
away  in  my  chemise.  I  don't  care  V'  Her  voice  was  rough  and 
coarse  from  the  damp  air  of  the  back  yards. 

'^ow  go  back  to  bed,  Johanna !"  said  Morten  more  gently. 


DAYBREAK  423 

^^member  what  the  doctor  said.  Youll  catch  cold  and  ifll  all 
be  wasted.'* 

''What  do  I  care!''  she  answered,  breaking  into  a  coarse 
laugh,  ^ou  needn't  waste  anything  on  me;  I've  had  no  chil- 
dren by  yotu''  She  was  trembling  with  cold,  but  remained  ob- 
stinately standing,  and  answered  Morten's  remonstrances  with 
a  torrent  of  abusive  epithets.  At  last  he  gftve  it  up  and  sat  down 
wearily.    The  two  men  sat  and  looked  at  her  in  silence. 

The  child  was  evidently  uncomfortable  at  the  cessation  of 
resistance,  and  became  confused  beneath  their  silent  gaze.  She 
tossed  her  head  and  looked  defiantly  from  the  one  to  the  other, 
her  eyes  glowing  wilh  an  unnatural  brightness.  Suddenly  she 
sank  upon  the  floor  and  began  to  cry. 

''This  won't  do,"  said  Pelle  gravely. 

**I  can't  manage  her,"  answered  Morten  hopelessly,  *T)ut  you 
are  strong  enough." 

Pelle  stooped  and  took  her  up  in  his  arms.  She  kicked  and 
bit  him.  ''She's  got  a  fit,"  he  said  to  Morten.  ''We  must  take 
her  out  to  the  pump."  She  instantly  became  quiet  and  let  him 
carry  her  to  bed.  The  fever  was  raging  in  her,  and  he  noticed 
how  her  body  was  racked  with  every  breath  she  drew;  it  soimdel 
like  a  leaky  pump. 

When  Morten,  with  a  few  kind  words,  covered  her  up,  she 
began  to  weep  convulsively,  but  turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and 
stuffed  "the  quilt  into  her  mouth  in  order  to  hide  it.  She  grad- 
ually became  quieter  and  at  last  fell  asleep;  and  Ihe  two  men 
stole  out  of  the  room  and  closed  the  door  after  them. 

Morten  looked  tired  out,  for  he  was  still  not  strong.  "I've 
let  myself  in  for  something  that  I'm  not  equal  to,"  he  said 
despondently. 

"Who  is  the  poor  child  ?"  asked  Pelle  softly. 

"I  don't  know.  She  came  to  me  this  spring,  almost  dead 
drunk  and  in  a  fearful  state;  and  Ihe  next  day  die  regretted  it 
and  went  off,  but  I  got  hold  of  her  again.  She's  one  of  those 
poor  creatures  who  have  no  other  home  than  the  big  timber- 
yards,  and  there  she's  made  a  living  by  going  from  one  to  an- 
other of  the  bigger  lads.  I  can  get  nothing  out  of  her,  but  I've 
found  out  in  other  ways  that  she's  lived  among  timber-stacks 
and  in  cellars  for  at  least  two  years.    The  boys  enticed  dissolute 


424  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

mm.  out  there  and  sold  her^  taking  most  of  the  money  themselves 
and  giving  her  spirits  to  encourage  her.  From  what  I  can  make 
out  there  are  vhole  organized  bands  which  supply  the  dissolute 
men  of  the  city  witii  boys  and  girls.  It  makes  one  sick  to  think 
of  it!  The  child  must  be  an  orphan,  but  won't,  as  I  said,  tell 
me  anything.  Once  or  twice  IVe  heard  her  talk  in  her  sleep  of 
her  grandmother;  but  when  I\e  referred  to  it,  she  sulks  and 
won*t  speak.'' 

'^Does  she  drink?"  asked  Pelle. 

Morten  nodded,  ^'ve  had  some  bad  times  with  her  on  that 
account,''  he  said.  ^She  shows  incredible  ingenuity  when  if  s  a 
'Case  of  getting  hold  of  liquor.  At  first  she  couldn't  eat  hot  food 
at  all,  she  was  in  such  a  state.  She's  altogether  fearfully  shat- 
tered in  soul  and  body,  and  causes  me  much  trouble." 

^'Why  don't  you  get  her  into  some  home  ?" 

^Our  public  institutions  for  the  care  of  children  are  not  cal- 
culated to  foster  life  in  a  down-trodden  plant,  and  youll  not 
succeed  witii  Johanna  by  punishment  and  treatment  like  any 
ordinary  child.  At  times  she's  quite  abnormally  defiant  and 
unmanageable,  and  makes  me  altogether  despair;  and  then  when 
I'm  not  looking,  she  lies  and  cries  over  herself.  There's  much 
good  in  her  in  spite  of  everything,  but  she  can't  let  it  come 
out  I\e  tried  getting  her  into  a  private  family,  where  I  knew 
they  would  be  kind  to  her ;  but  not  many  days  had  passed  before 
they  came  and  said  she'd  run  away.  For  a  couple  of  weeks  she 
wandered  about,  and  then  came  back  again  to  me.  Late  one 
evening  when  I  came  home,  I  found  her  sitting  wet  and  shiver- 
ing in  the  dark  comer  outside  my  door.  I  was  quite  touched, 
but  she  was  angry  because  I  saw  her,  and  bit  and  kicked  as 
she  did  just  now.  I  had  to  carry  her  in  by  force.  Her  unhappy 
circumstances  have  thrown  her  quite  off  her  balance,  and  I  at 
any  rate  can't  make  her  out.  So  thaf  s  how  matters  stand.  I 
sleep  on  the  sofa  in  here,  but  of  course  a  bachelor's  quarters  are 
not  exactly  arranged  for  this.  There's  a  lot  of  gossip  too  among 
the  other  lodgers." 

*T)oe8  that  trouble  you  ?"  asked  Pelle  in  surprise. 

*^o,  but  the  child,  you  see — she's  terribly  aUve  to  that  sort 
of  thing.  And  then  she  doesn't  comprehend  the  circumstances 
herself.    She's  only  about  deven  or  twelve,  and  yet  she's  already 


DAYBREAK  486 

accustomed  to  pay  for  every  kindness  with  her  weak  body. 
Can't  you  imagine  how  dreadful  it  is  to  look  into  her  wonder- 
ing eyes  ?  The  doctor  says  she's  been  injured  internally  and  is 
probably  tuberculous  too;  he  thinks  she'll  never  get  right.  And 
her  soul  I  What  an  abyss  for  a  child  I  For  even  one  child  to 
have  such  a  fate  is  too  much,  and  how  many  there  are  in  the 
hell  in  which  we  live  1" 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  little  while,  and  then  Morten 
rose.  'TTou  mustn't  mind  if  I  ask  you  to  go,"  he  said,  'Tbut  I 
must  get  to  work;  there's  something  I've  got  to  finish  this  even- 
ing. Tou  won't  mind,  will  you?  Gome  and  see  me  again  as 
soon  as  you  can,  and  thanks  for  coming  this  time !"  he  said  as  he 
pressed  Pelle's  hand. 

'I'd  like  you  to  keep  your  eyes  open,"  he  said  as  he  followed 
him  to  the  door.  'Terhaps  you  could  help  me  to  find  out  the 
history  of  the  poor  thing.  You  know  a  lot  of  poor  people,  and 
must  have  come  in  some  way  or  other  into  her  life,  for  I  can  see 
it  in  her.  Didn't  you  notice  how  eager  she  was  to  have  a  look 
at  you?    Try  to  find  out  about  it,  wiU  you?" 

Pelle  promised,  but  it  was  more  easily  said  than  done.  When 
his  thoughts  searched  the  wide  world  of  poverty  to  which  he 
had  drawn  so  close  during  the  great  lock-out,  he  realized  that 
there  were  hundreds  of  children  who  might  have  suffered 
Johanna's  fate. 


Pbllb  had  got  out  his  old  tools  and  started  as  shoemaker  to 
the  dwellers  in  his  street.  He  no  longer  went  about  seeking  for 
emplojrmenty  and  to  Ellen  it  appeared  as  if  he  had  given  up  all 
hope  of  getting  any.  But  he  was  only  waiting  and  arming  him- 
self :  he  was  as  sangnine  as  ever.  The  promise  of  the  inconceiT- 
able  was  still  nnfolfiUed  in  his  mind. 

There  was  no  room  for  him  np  in  the  small  flat  with  Ellen 
doing  her  washing  there,  so  he  took  a  room  in  Ihe  high  baae- 
menty  and  hung  np  a  large  placard  in  the  window,  on  which  he 
wrote  with  shoemaker's  ink,  ^Come  to  me  with  yonr  shoes^  and 
we  will  help  one  another  to  stand  on  our  feet."  When  Lasae 
Frederik  was  not  at  work  or  at  school,  he  was  generally  to  be 
found  downstairs  with  his  f alher.  He  was  a  clever  feUow  and 
conld  give  a  hand  in  many  ways.  While  they  worked  they  talked 
about  all  sorts  of  things,  and  the  boy  related  his  experiences  to 
his  father. 

He  was  changing  very  rapidly  and  talked  sensibly  about 
everything.  Pelle  was  afraid  he  was  getting  too  little  out  of 
his  childhood.  ''Aren't  you  going  up  to  play  with  them?"  he 
asked,  when  the  boys  of  the  neighborhood  rushed  shouting  past 
the  basement  window;  but  Lasse  Frederik  shook  his  head.  He 
had  played  at  being  everything,  from  a  criminal  to  a  king,  so 
there  was  nothing  more  to  be  had  in  that  direction.  He  wanted 
something  real  now,  and  in  the  meantime  had  dreams  of  going 
to  sea. 

Although  they  all  three  worked,  they  could  only  just  make 
ends  meet;  there  was  never  anything  over  for  extras.  This  was 
a  sorrow  to  Ellen  especially ;  Pelle  did  not  seem  to  think  much 
about  it.  If  they  only  put  something  eatable  before  him,  he  was 
contented  and  did  not  mind  what  it  was. 

436 


DAYBREAK  427 

It  was  Ellen!s  dream  that  they  shotJd  still,  by  toiling  early 
and  late,  be  able  to  work  themselves  up  into  another  stratum; 
but  Pelle  was  angry  when  she  worked  on  after  the  time  for 
leaving  off.  He  would  rather  they  were  a  little  poor,  if  only 
they  could  afford  to  be  human  beings.  EUen  did  not  understand 
it,  but  she  saw  that  his  mind  was  turned  in  another  direction; 
he  who  had  hitiierto  always  fallen  asleep  over  books  would  now 
become  so  absorbed  in  them  that  he  did  not  hear  the  children 
playing  round  him.  She  had  actually  to  rouse  him  when  there 
was  anytiiing  she  wanted;  and  she  b^an  to  fear  this  new  power 
which  had  come  in  place  of  the  old.  It  seemed  like  a  curse  that 
something  should  always  work  upon  him  to  take  him  beyond 
her.  And  she  dared  not  oppose  it;  she  had  bitter  experience 
from  former  times. 

''What  are  you  looking  for  in  those  books?''  she  asked,  sitting 
down  beside  him.  Pelle  looked  up  absently.  His  thoughts  were 
in  far-off  r^ons  where  she  had  never  been.  What  was  he  look- 
ing for?  He  tried  to  tell  her,  but  could  not  explain  it.  ^'m 
looking  for  myself  I''  he  said  suddenly,  striking  boldly  through 
everything.    Ellen  gazed  at  him,  wondering  and  disappointed. 

But  she  tried  again.  This  time  nothing  should  come  be- 
tween them  and  destroy  her  world.  She  no  longer  directly  op- 
posed anything;  she  meant  to  go  with  him  and  be  where  he  was. 
^ell  me  what  you  are  doing  and  let  me  take  part  in  it,''  she 
said. 

Pelle  had  been  prepared  to  some  extent  to  go  into  this  by 
himself,  and  was  glad  to  meet  with  a  desire  for  development  in 
her  too.  For  the  present  tiie  intellectual  world  resembled  more 
or  less  a  wilderness,  and  it  was  good  to  have  a  companion  with 
him  in  traversing  it 

He  explained  to  her  the  thoughts  that  occupied  him,  and 
discussed  them  with  her;  and  Ellen  observed  wonderingly  that 
it  was  all  about  things  that  did  not  concern  their  own  little 
well-being.  She  took  great  pains  to  comprehend  this  flight 
away  from  the  things  that  mattered  most;  it  was  like  children 
who  always  wanted  what  they  ought  not  to  have. 

In  the  evening,  when  Boy  C!omf ort  and  Sister  had  been  put 
to  bed,  Pelle  would  take  a  book  and  read  aloud.  Ellen  was  occu- 
pied with  some  mending  or  other,  and  Lasse  Frederik,  his  ears 


488  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

standing  out  from  his  head^  hung  over  a  chair-back  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  his  father.  Although  he  did  not  understand  the  half 
of  it,  he  followed  it  attentively  until  Nature  asserted  herself, 
and  he  fell  asleep. 

Ellen  understood  this  very  weU^  for  she  had  great  difficulty 
herself  in  keeping  her  eyes  open.  They  were  not  stories  that 
Pelle  read.  Sometimes  he  would  stop  to  write  sometiiing  down 
or  to  discuss  some  question  or  other.  He  would  have  the  most 
extraordinary  ideas,  and  see  a  connection  between  things  that 
seemed  to  Ellen  to  be  as  far  apart  as  the  poles;  she  could  not 
help  thinking  that  he  might  very  well  have  studied  to  be  a 
pastor.  It  suited  him,  however;  his  eyes  became  quite  black 
when  he  was  explaining  some  subject  that  he  was  thoroughly  in- 
terested in,  and  his  lips  alteumed  an  expression  that  made  her 
long  to  kiss  them.  She  had  to  confess  to  herself  that  in  any  case 
it  was  a  very  harmless  evening  occupation,  and  was  glad  that 
what  was  interesting  him  this  time  kept  him  at  home  at  any  rate. 

One  day  Pelle  became  aware  that  she  was  not  following  him. 
She  did  not  even  believe  in  what  he  was  doing;  she  had  never 
believed  in  him  blindly.  **She*s  never  really  loved  me  either: 
that's  why  V^  he  tiiought  despondently.  Perhaps-  that  explained 
why  she  took  Boy  Comfort  as  calmly  as  if  he  were  her  own 
child:  she  was  not  jealous  I  Pelle  would  wilMngly  have  sub- 
mitted to  a  shower  of  reproaches  if  afterward  she  had  given  him 
a  kiss  wetted  with  hot  tears;  but  Ellen  was  never  thrown  off 
her  balance. 

Happy  though  they  were,  he  noticed  that  she,  to  a  certain 
extent,  reckoned  without  him,  as  if  he  had  a  weabiess  of  which 
it  was  always  well  to  take  accoimt.  Her  earlier  experiences  had 
left  tiieir  mark  upon  her. 

«  •  *  *  * 

Ellen  had  been  making  plans  with  regard  to  the  old  room 
and  the  two  small  ante-rooms  at  the  end  of  it.  She  was  tired 
of  washing;  it  paid  wretchedly  and  gave  a  great  deal  of  Work, 
and  she  received  very  little  consideration.  She  now  wanted  to 
let  lodgings  to  artistes.  She  knew  of  more  than  one  woman  in 
their  street  who  made  a  nice  living  by  taking  in  artistes.  **If 
I'd  only  got  a  couple  of  himdred  krones  (10  or  11  pounds)  to 
start  it  with,  I'm  sure  I  should  make  it  pay,"  she  said.    **And 


DAYBBEAK  429 

then  you'd  have  more  time  and  ^uiet  for  reading  your  books/' 
she  added  coazingly. 

Pelle  was  against  the  plan.  The  better  class  of  artistes  took 
Tooms  at  the  artiste  hotels^  and  the  people  they  might  expect  to 
get  had  dot  much  to  pay  with.  He  had  seen  a  good  deal  of 
them  from  his  basement  window,  and  had  maided  shoes  for  some 
of  them:  they  were  rather  a  soleless  tribe.  She  said  no  more 
about  it,  but  he  could  see  that  she  was  not  convinced.  She  only 
dropped  the  subject  because  he  was  against  it  and  it  was  he  who 
would  have  to  procure  the  money. 

He  could  not  bear  to  think  this;  he  had  become  cautious 
about  deciding  for  others.  The  money  might  be  obtained,  if  in 
no  other  way,  by  giving  security  in  his  furniture  and  tools.  If 
the  plan  did  not  succeed,  it  would  be  certain  ruin;  but  perhaps 
Ellen  thought  him  a  wet  blanket. 

One  day  he  threw  down  his  leather  apron  and  went  out  to 
raise  the  money.  It  tras  late  when  he  came  home,  and  Ellen 
was  standing  at  the  door  waiting  for  him  with  a  face  of  anxiety. 

''Here's  the  money,  my  dear  I  Whafll  you  give  me  for  itP* 
he  said  gaily,  and  coimted  out  into  her  hand  a  hundred  and 
eighty  krones  (£10)  in  notes.  Ellen  gazed  in  surprise  at  the 
money;  she  had  never  held  so  large  a  sum  in  her  hands  before. 

''Wherever  did  you  get  all  that  money  from?"  she  asked 
at  last. 

"Well,  I've  trudged  all  day  from  place  to  place,"  said  Pelle 
cheerfully,  "and  at  last  I  was  directed  to  a  man  in  Blaagaard 
Street.  He  gave  me  two  himdred  krones  (£11)  on  the  fur- 
niture." 

"But  there's  only  one  hundred  and  eighty  (£10)  here  I" 

"Oh,  well,  he  took  off  twenty  krones  (£1  28.).  The  loan's  to 
be  repaid  in  instalments  of  twenty  krones  (£1  28,)  a  month  for 
fifteen  months.  I  had  to  sign  a  statement  that  \  had  borrowed 
three  hundred  krones  (£16  10^.),  but  then  we  shan't  have  to 
pay  any  interest." 

Ellen  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  "Three  hundred  krones, 
and  we've  only  got  a  himdred  and  eighty,  Pelle  1"  But  she  sud- 
denly threw  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  kissed  him  passion- 
ately. "Thank  you!"  she  whispered.  He  felt  quite  dazed;  it 
was  not  like  her  to  be  so  vehement. 


430  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

She  had  plenty  to  do^  after  Juring  the  room^  in  pntting  it  in 
order.  The  loose  beams  had  to  be  fixed  up,  and  the  waUa  plas- 
tered and  whitewashed  a  little.  The  old  peasant  was  willing 
enough  to  let  it,  but  he  would  not  hear  of  going  to  any  expense. 
Ellen  at  last  succeeded^  however,  in  getting  him  to  agree  to 
pay  half  the  repairs  on  condition  that  she  took  the  room  for  a 
year  and  payed  the  rent  in  adyance.  '^e  can  get  my  brotiier 
Frederik  to  do  some  of  the  repairs  on  Sunday  morning,"  she 
said  to  Pelle,  ''and  then  perhaps  we  shall  get  it  done  for  noth-  j 
ing."    She  was  altogether  very  energetic.  I 

There  was  need  for  it  too.  The  r^it  swallowed  up  the  hun- 
dred krones  (£6  iOa.),  and  then  there  were  all  the  things  that 
had  to  be  got  She  bought  a  quantity  of  cheap  print,  and  hung 
it  up  so  as  to  divide  one  side  of  the  room  into  a  number  of 
smaU  compartments  each  provided  with  a  second-hand  bed  and 
hay  mattress,  and  a  washing-stand.  ''Artistes  are  not  so  par- 
ticular," she  saidx  "and  I'm  sure  they'll  be  glad  to  have  the 
room  to  practise  in."  Finally  there  were  the  two  little  ante- 
rooms, which  were  to  be  furnished  a  little  better  for  more  par- 
ticular artistes.  There  was  not  nearly  enough  money,  and  soma 
of  the  things  had  to  be  taken  on  credit. 

At  last  it  was  all  ready  to  receive  the  guests.  It  looked  quite 
smart  for  the  amount  spent  on  it,  and  Pelle  could  not  but  ad- 
mire her  cleverness  in  making  a  little  go  a  long  way.  The  only 
thing  now  left  to  do  was  to  catch  the  birds,  but  here  Ellen's 
practical  sense  ceased  to  act;  she  had  no  idea  how  to  proceed. 
"We  must  advertise,"  she  said,  and  counted  up  her  remaining 
pence. 

Pelle  laughed  at  her.  A  lot  of  good  it  would  be  to  adver- 
tise for  people  who  were  goodness  knows  where  on  railways  and 
steamers  I  "What  shall  we  do  then?"  she  said,  looking  anx- 
iously to  him  for  help.    After  all,  he  was  the  man  for  it  all. 

Well,  first  of  all  there  must  be  a  German  placard  down  on 
the  street-door,  and  then  they  must  make  the  rooms  known. 
Pelle  had  studied  both  German  and  English  in  the  prison,  and 
he  made  up  the  placard  himself.  He  had  cards  printed,  and  left 
them  in  the  artistes'  tavern  at  the  comer  of  Yesterbro  Street, 
went  there  himself  two  or  three  times  after  midnight  when  tiie 
artistes  gathered  there  when  their  work  was  finished,  and  sta- 


DATBBBAK  431 

tioned  himself  at  the  stage-entrances  of  the  music-halls.  He 
soon  came  to  look  npon  it  as  a  task  to  be  performed^  like  eyery- 
thing  with  which  he  occupied  himself;  and  this  should  succeed  1 

Ellen  looked  on  wondering  and  helpless*  She  had  all  at 
once  grown  frightened^  and  followed  each  of  his  movements 
with  anxious  attention. 

Soon^  however^  things  began  to  move*  The  girls  whose  wash- 
ing  Ellen  had  done  took  an  interest  in  the  imdertaking^  and 
sent  lodgers  to  her;  and  Lasse  Frederik,  who  had  the  run  of  the 
circus  stables^  often  returned  with  some  Bussian  groom  or  other 
who  did  a  turn  as  a  rustic  dancer  or  &  Cossack  horseman.  Some- 
times there  lived  with  her  people  from  the  other  side  of  the 
world  where*  they  walk  with  their  heads  down — ^fakirs  and  magi- 
cians from  India  and  Japan,  snake-charmers  from  Tetuan, 
people  with  shaven  heads  or  a  Icmg  black  pigtail,  with  oblique, 
sorrowful  eyes,  loose  hips  and  skin  that  resembl^  the  greenish 
.leather  that  Pelle  used  for  ladies'  boots.  Sister  was  afraid  of 
them,  but  it  was  the  time  of  his  life  to  Lasse  Frederik.  There 
were  fat  Tyrolese  girls,  who  came  three  by  three;  they  jodeled 
at  the  music-halls,  and  looked  dreadful  all  day,  much  to  Ellen's 
despair.  Now  and  then  a  whole  company  would  come,  and 
then-  trapezes  and  rings  creaked  in  the  great  room,  Spanish 
dancers  went  through  their  steps>  and  jugglers  practised  new 
feats. 

They  were  all  people  who  should  preferably  not  be  seen  off 
the  stage.  Ellen  often  went  to  the  circus  and  music-halls  now, 
but  could  never  quite  believe  that  the  performers  were  the  same 
men  and  women  who  went  about  at  home  looking  like  scare- 
crows. Most  of  them  required  nothing  except  that  the  lodging 
should  be  cheap;  they  boarded  themselves,  and  goodness  knows 
what  they  lived  on.  Some  of  them  simply  lighted  a  fire  on  a 
sheet  of  iron  on  the  floor  and  made  a  mixture  of  rice  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort.  They  could  not  eat  Danish  food,  Pelle  said. 
Sometimes  they  went  away  without  paying,  and  occasionally  took 
something  with  them;  and  they  often  broke  things.  There  was 
no  fortune  to  be  made  out  of  them,  but  in  the  meantime  Ellen 
was  satisfied  as  long  as  she  could  keep  it  going,  so  that  it  paid 
the  rent  and  instalments  on  the  loan  and  left  her  a  little  for 
her  trouble.    It  was  her  intention  to  weed  out  the  more  worth- 


432  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

less  snbjects^  and  raise  the  whole  tone  of  the  business  when  it 
had  got  into  good  order. 

^on  really  might  refuse  the  worst  work  now,  and  save 
yourself  a  little/'  she  said  to  Pelle  when  he  was  sitting  oyer 
some  worn-out  factory  shoes  that  had  neither  sole  nor  upper. 
Most  boots  and  shoes  had  done  service  somewhere  else  before 
they  reached  this  neighborhood;  and  when  they  came  to  Pelle 
there  was  not  much  left  of  them.  ''Say  no  to  it !''  said  Ellen. 
''Ifs  far  too  hardly  earned  for  you !  And  we  shall  get  on  now 
without  having  to  take  everything.''  In  the  kindness  of  her 
heart  she  wanted  him  to  be  able  to  read  his  books,  since  he  had 
a  weakness  for  them.  Her  intention  was  good,  but  Pelle  had 
no  thought  of  becoming  an  aesthetic  idler,  who  let  his  wife  keep 
him  while  he  posed  as  a  learned  man.  There  were  enough  of 
them  in  the  neighborhood,  and  the  inhabitants  looked  up  to 
them;  but  they  were  not  interesting.  They  were  more  or  less 
another  form  of  drunkard. 

To  Pelle  books  were  a  new  power,  grown  slowly  out  of  his 
sojourn  in  prison.  He  had  sat  there  alone  with  his  work, 
thrown  on  himself  for  occupation,  and  he  had  examined  himself 
in  every  detail.  It  was  like  having  companionship  when  he 
brought  to  light  anything  new  and  strange  in  himself;  and  one 
day  he  chanced  upon  the  mistiness  of  his  own  being,  and  dis- 
covered that  it  consisted  of  experience  that  others  had  gone 
through  before  him.  The  Bible,  which  always  lay  on  the  pris- 
oner's table  for  company,  helped  him;  its  words  had  the  sound 
of  a  well-known  voice  that  reminded  him  strongly  of  Father 
Lasse's  in  his  childhood.  From  the  Bible  he  went  on  further 
and  discovered  that  the  serious  books  were  men  who  sat  in  soli- 
tude like  himself,  and  spoke  out. 

Was  solitude  so  dreadful  then  when  you  had  such  company? 
Pelle  was  no  longer  able  to  comprehend  his  own  fear  of  it.  As 
a  child  he  had  been  a  creature  in  the  widest  sense,  and  found 
companionship  in  everything;  he  could  converse  with  trees,  ani- 
mals, and  stones.  Those  fibers  had  withered,  and  no  longer 
conveyed  nourishment;  but  then  he  became  one  with  the  masses, 
and  thought  and  felt  exactly  as  they  did.  That  was  crumbling 
away  too  now;  he  was  being  isolated  distinctly,  bit  by  bit,  and 
he  was  interested  in  discovering  a  plan  in  it.    He  had  made 


DATBBEAK  433 

Nature  subject  to  him  eyen  as  a  child^  and  had  afterward  won 
the  masses !  It  was  solitude  now  that  had  to  be  taken^  and  he 
himself  was  going  about  in  the  midst  of  it^  large  and  wonderful ! 
It  was  already  leaving  indelible  traces  in  his  mind^  although  he 
had  seen  nothing  of  it  yet.  He  felt  strangely  excited,  very 
much  as  he  had  felt  when^  in  his  childhood,  he  arrived  in  Bom- 
holm  with  his  father  and  could  see  nothing,  but  heard  the  move- 
ment of  thronging  life  behind  the  mist.  A  new  and  unknown 
world,  full  of  wonders  and  throbbing  with  anticipation,  would 
meet  him  in  there. 

Pellets  action  was  not  due  to  his  own  volition.  He  might 
as  well  try  to  lift  himself  up  by  his  hair  as  determine  that  now 
he  would  be  a  human  being  by  himself.  It  was  an  awakening  of 
new  powers.  He  no  longer  let  sunshine  and  rain  pass  xmno- 
ticed  over  his  head.  A  strange  thing  happened  to  him — ^he 
looked  wonderingly  at  everything  that  he  had  formerly  passed 
by  as  commonplace,  and  saw  it  all  in  a  new,  brilliant  light.  He 
had  to  go  all  over  it  from  the  beginning,  look  at  every  detaiL 
How  wonderfully  everything  was  connected,  sorrow  and  joy  and 
apparent  trifles,  to  make  him,  Pelle,  who  had  ruled  over  him- 
dreds  of  thousands  and  yet  had  to  go  to  prison  in  order  to  feel 
himself  rich  I  Something  had  been  ignited  in  him  that  could 
never  be  extinguished,  a  sacred  fire  to  which  everything  must 
bear  fuel,  whether  it  would  or  not.  He  could  not  be  conquered 
now;  he  drew  strength  from  infinity  itself. 

The  bare  cell — ^three  paces  one  way  and  six  the  other — ^with 
its  tiny  window  and  the  mysterious  peephole  in  the  door  which 
was  like  a  watchful  eye  upon  one  always,  how  much  it  had  held  I 
It  had  always  been  the  lot  of  the  poor  man  to  create  worlds  out 
of  the  void,  beautiful  mirages  which  suddenly  broke  and  threw 
him  back  even  poorer  and  more  desolate.  But  this  lasted.  All 
the  threads  of  life  seemed  to  be  joined  together  in  the  bare 
celL  It  was  like  the  dark,  underground  place  in  large  build- 
ings where  the  machinery  is  kept  that  admits  and  excludes 
light  and  heat  to  the  whole  block.  There  he  discovered  how  rich 
and  varied  life  is« 

Pelle  went  about  in  a  peculiarly  elevated  frame  of  mind.  He 
felt  that  scmiething  greater  and  finer  than  himself  had  taken  up 
its  abode  within  him  and  would  grow  on. to  perfection  there. 


434  PELLE  THE   CONQUEEOE 

It  was  a  new  being  that  yet  was  himself;  it  remained  there  and 
drew  nourishment  from  everything  that  he  did.  He  went  about 
circumspectly  and  quietly,  with  an  introspective  expression  as 
though  he  were  weighing  everything:  there  was  so  mudi  tiiat 
was  not  permissible  because  it  might  injure  HI  There  were 
always  two  of  them  now — ^Pelle  and  this  wonderful,  invisible 
^[0,  which  lay  securely  and  weightily  within  him  like  a  living 
thing,  with  its  roots  in  the  darkness.  • 

Pellets  relations  to  books  were  deeply  grounded :  he  had  to 
find  out  what  the  world  meant  now.  He  was  a  little  disLruslful 
of  works  of  fiction;  you  got  at  their  subject-matter  too  easfly, 
and  that  could  not  be  right  They  were  made  up,  too!  He 
needed  real  stuff,  facts.  There  were  great  spaces  in  his  brain 
that  longed  to  be  filled  with  a  tangible  knowledge  of  tilings. 
His  favorite  reading  was  historical  works,  espedaUy  social  his- 
tory; and  at  present  he  raid  everything  that  came  in  his  way, 
raw  and  unsweetened ;  it  would  have  to  sort  itself  out.  It  was 
a  longing  that  had  never  been  satisfied,  and  now  seemed  in- 
satiable. 

He  minded  his  work  punctiliously,  however.  He  had  made 
it  a  principle  never  to  touch  a  book  as  long  as  any  work  lay 
waiting  unfinished  on  the  fioor.  In  prison  he  had  dreamt  of  a 
reasonable  working-day  of — ^for  instance— eight  hours,  so  that 
he  would  have  time  and  strength  to  occupy  himself  with  intel- 
lectual matters;  but  now  he  took  it  off  his  nighfs  sleep  instead. 
This  was  at  any  rate  a  field  out  of  which  they  need  not  try  to 
keep  him;  he  would  have  his  share  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
times.  He  felt  it  was  a  weapon.  The  poor  man  had  l<mg 
enough  retired  willingly  into  the  comer  for  want  of  enli^ten- 
ment,  and  whenever  he  put  out  his  head  he  was  laughed  back 
again.  Why  did  he  not  simply  wrest  the  prerogative  from  the 
upper  classes?  It  cost  only  toil,  and  in  that  coin  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  pay  I  He  was  scarcely  deficient  in  ability;  as  far  as 
Pelle  could  see  at  present,  almost  all  the  pioneers  of  the  new 
state  of  things  came  from  the  lower  classes. 

He  discovered  with  pleasure  that  his  inward  searching  did 
not  carry  him  away  from  the  world,  for  far  in  there  he  came 
out  again  into  the  light — ^the  light  itself!  He  followed  the 
secret  laws  for  his  own  inward  bdng,  and  found  himself  onoe 


DAYBBBAK  436 

more  deep  in  the  qnestion  of  the  welfare  of  the  multitade.  His 
practical  sense  reqtiired  this  confinnation  of  the  conditions. 
There  were  also  outward  results.  Even  now  history  could  no 
longer  be  used  to  light  him  and  his  ideas  home;  he  ^ew  too 
much.  And  his  vision  grew  from  day  to  day^  and  embraced  an 
ever-widening  horizon.  Some  day  he  would  simply  take  the 
magic  word  from  the  trolls  and  wake  the  giant  witii  iti 

He  worked  hard  and  was  as  a  rule  full  of  confidence.  When 
the  last  of  the  artistes  came  home  from  their  cafi,  he  was  often 
sitting  working  by  tile  light  of  his  shoemakei^s  lamp.  They 
would  stop  before  the  open  basement  window  and  have  a  chat 
with  him  in  their  broken  Danish.  His  domestic  circumstances 
were  somewhat  straitened;  the  instahnents  in  repayment  of  the 
loan,  and  the  debt  on  the  furniture  still  swallowed  all  that  they 
were  able  to  scrape  together,  and  Pelle  had  no  prospect  of  get- 
ting better  work.  But  work  is  the  bearer  of  faith,  and  he  felt 
sure  that  a  way  would  open  out  if  only  he  kept  on  with  it 
unweariedly. 

He  took  Ellen's  unspoken  mistrust  of  his  projects  quietly. 
He  felt  himself  to  be  greater  than  she  in  this;  die  could  not 
reach  up  to  the  level  of  his  head! 


VI 

Pbllb  wft8  awake  as  early  as  four  o'clock^  alihotigh  he  had 
gone  to  bed  late.  He  slept  lightly  at  this  time,  when  the  sum- 
mer night  lay  lightly  npon  his  eyelids.  He  stole  out  into  the 
kitchen  and  washed  himself  under  the  tap,  and  then  went  down 
to  his  work.  The  gray  spirit  of  the  night  was  still  visible  down 
in  the  street,  but  a  tinge  of  red  was  appearing  above  the  too&. 
**The  sun's  rising  now  over  the  country,**  he  thought,  recalling 
the  mornings  of  his  childhood,  the  fields  with  their  sheen  <rf 
silvery  dew,  and  the  sun  suddenly  coming  and  changing  tiiem 
into  thousands  of  sparkling  diamond  drops.  Ah,  if  one  could 
once  more  run  bare-footed,  if  a  little  shrinkingly,  out  into  the 
dewy  grass,  and  shout  a  greeting  to  the  dawning  day :  ^Qet  up. 
Sun  t    Pelle  is  here  already  P* 

The  night-watchman  came  slowly  past  the  open  window  on 
his  way  home,  ^p  already?**  he  exclaimed  in  a  voice  hoarse 
with  the  night  air,  as  he  nodded  down  to  Pelle.  '^ell,  it*8  the 
early  bird  that  catches  the  worm  I  You*ll  be  rich  one  of  these 
days,  shoemaker  I**   Pelle  laughed ;  he  was  rich  I 

He  thought  of  his  wife  and  children  while  he  worked.  It 
was  nice  to  think  of  them  sleeping  so  securely  while  he  eat 
here  at  work;  it  emphasized  the  fact  that  he  was  their  bread' 
winner.  With  every  blow  of  his  hammer  the  home  grew,  so  he 
hammered  away  cheerfully.  They  were  poor,  but  that  was  noth- 
ing in  comparison  with  the  fact  that  if  he  were  taken  away 
now,  things  would  go  to  pieces.  He  was  the  children*s  Provi- 
dence ;  it  was  always  **Father*s  going  to,**  or  **Father  said  so.** 
In  their  eyes  he  was  infallible.  Ellen  too  began  to  come  to  him 
with  her  troubles;  she  no  longer  kept  them  to  herself,  but 
recognized  that  he  had  the  broader  back. 

4tS 


DAYBBBAK  437 

It  was  all  so  tuideseryed — as  if  good  spirits  were  working 
for  him.  Shameful  though  it  was  that  the  wife  should  work  to 
help  to  keep  the  family^  he  had  not  been  able  to  exempt  her 
from  it.  And  what  had  he  done  for  the  children?  It  was  not 
easy  to  build  everything  up  at  once  from  a  bare  f oimdation,  and 
he  was  sometimes  tempted  to  leave  something  alone  so  as  to 
accomplish  the  rest  the  more  quickly.  As  it  was  now^  he  was 
really  nothing  1  Neither  the  old  Pelle  nor  the  new,  but  some- 
thing indeterminate,  in  process  of  formation,  something  that 
,was  greatly  in  need  of  indulgence!  A  removing  van  full  of 
furniture  on  its  way  to  a  new  dwelling. 

He  often  enough  had  occasion  to  feel  this  from  outside;  both 
old  enemies  and  old  friends  looked  upon  him  as  a  man  who 
had  gone  very  much  down  in  the  world.  Their  look  said :  ^% 
that  really  all  that  remains  of  that  stalwart  fellow  we  once 
knew?^'  His  own  people,  on  the  other  hand,  were  lenient  in 
their  judgment.  **Pather  hasnH  got  time,'*  SiiBter  would  say  in 
explanation  to  herself  when  she  was  playing  about  down  in  his 
work-room — ^^Tbut  he  wiU  have  some  day  1'*  And  then  she  would 
picture  to  herself  all  the  delightful  things  that  would  happen 
then.  It  afFected  Pelle  strangely;  he  would  try  to  get  through 
this  as  quickly  as  possible. 

It  was  a  dark  and  pathless  continent  into  which  he  had  ven* 
tured,  but  he  was  now  beginning  to  find  his  way  in  it.  There 
were  ridges  of  hills  that  constantly  repeated  themselves,  and  a 
mountain-top  here  and  there  that  was  reached  every  time  he 
'emerged  from  the  thicket.  It  was  good  to  travel  there.  Per- 
haps  it  was  the  land  he  and  the  others  had  looked  for.  When 
he  had  got  through,  he  would  show  it  to  them. 

Pelle  had  a  good  memory,  and  remembered  all  that  he  read. 
He  could  quote  much  of  it  verbatim,  and  in  the  morning,  be- 
fore the  street  had  wakened,  he  used  to  go  through  it  all  in  his 
mind  while  he  worked.  It  surprised  him  to  find  how  little  his- 
tory concerned  itself  with  his  people;  it  was  only  in  qtiite  recent 
times  that  they  had  been  included.  Well,  that  did  not  trouble 
him !  The  Movement  wa3  really  something  new,  and  not  one  of 
history's  everlasting  repetitions.  He  now  wanted  to  see  its  idea 
in  print,  and  one  day  found  him  sitting  with  a  strange  solem- 
nity in  the  library  with  Marx  and  Henry  George  in  front  of 


438  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

him.  Pelle  knew  something  about  this  subject  too^  but  this 
was  nevertheless  like  drawing  up  a  net  from  the  deep;  a  bril- 
liant world  of  wonders  came  up  with  it.  There  were  incontro- 
vertible logical  proofs  that  he  had  a  right  apprehension^  though 
it  had  been  arrived  at  blindly.  The  land  of  fortune  was  big 
enough  for  all;  the  greater  the  number  that  entered  it,  the 
larger  did  it  become.  He  felt  a  desire  to  hit  out  again  and 
strike  a  fresh  blow  for  happiness  I 

Suddenly  an  avalanche  seemed  to  fall  from  the  top  to  -the 
bottom  of  Ihe  house^  a  brief,  all-pervading  storm  that  brought 
him  back  to  his  home.  It  was  only  Liasse  Frederik  ushering  in 
the  day;  he  took  a  flight  at  each  leap^  called  a  greeting  down  to 
his  ia,tbeT,  and  dashed  off  to  his  work,  buttoning  the  last  but- 
ton of  his  braces  as  he  ran.  A  little  later  Ellen  came  down  with 
coffee. 

''Why  didnt  you  call  me  when  you  got  up?''  she  said  sulkily. 
''Ifs  not  good  to  sit  working  so  long  without  having  had  some- 
thing  to  eat.^ 

Pelle  laughed  and  kissed  her  good-morning.  Tine  ladies 
donH  get  up  until  long  after  their  husbands/'  he  said  teadngly. 

But  Ellen  would  not  be  put  off  with  a  jest.  A  proper  wife 
would  be  up  before  her  husband  and  have  something  ready  for 
him.  '1  will  have  you  call  me  I''  she  said  decidedly,  her  cheda 
very  red.    It  suited  her  to  get  roused  now  and  then. 

While  he  drank  his  coffee,  she  sat  and  talked  to  him  about 
her  afhirs,  and  they  discussed  the  plans  for  the  day,  after  which 
she  went  upstairs  to  help  the  children  to  dress. 

Later  in  the  morning  Pelle  laid  aside  his  work,  dressed  him- 
self and  went  out  to  deliver  it.  While  he  was  out  he  would  go 
into  the  Library  and  look  up  something  in  the  large  diction- 
aries. 

The  street  lived  its  own  quiet  life  here  close  up  to  the 
greater  thoroughfares — the  same  life  day  after  day.  The  fat 
second-hand  dealer  from  Jutland  was  standing  as  usual  at  his 
door,  smoking  his  wooden  pipe.  ''Good-morning,  shoemaker  I'' 
he  cried.  A  yellow,  oblique-eyed  oriental  in  slippers  and  long 
black  caftan  was  balancing  himself  carelessly  on  the  steps  of  the 
basement  milk-shop  with  a  bowl  of  cream  in  one  hand  and  a  loaf 
of  bread  in  the  o^er.    Above  on  the  pavement  two  boys  were 


DAYBBBAK  439 

playing  hopscotch,  jnst  below  the  large  red  lamp  which  all  night 
long  advertised  its  ^^corn-operator''  right  np  to  the  main  thor- 
oughfare.  Two  girls  in  cycling  costmne  came  out  of  a  gateway 
with  their  machines;  they  were  going  to  the  woods.  *'Gk)od-day, 
Pellel  How  is  Ellen's  business  getting  on?"  they  asked  fa- 
miliarly.   They  were  girls  for  whom  she  had  washed. 

Pelle  was  fond  of  this  busy  part  of  the  town  where  new 
ahops  with  large  plate-glass  windows  stood  side  by  side  with 
low-roofed  cottages  where  retail  business  was  carried  on  bdiind 
ordinary  windows  with  wallflowers  and  dahlias  in  them  as  they 
might  be  in  any  provincial  town.  A  string  was  stretched  above 
the  flower-pots,  with  a  paper  of  safety-pins  or  a  bundle  of  shoe- 
laces hanging  from  it.  There  were  poor  people  enough  here, 
but  life  did  not  run  in  such  hard  grooves  as  out  at  Norrebro. 
People  took  existence  more  easily ;  he  thought  th^n  less  honor- 
able, but  also  less  self-righteous.  They  seemed  to  be  endowed 
with  a  more  cheerful  temperament,  did  not  go  so  steadily  and 
methodically  to  and  from  their  fixed  work,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  several  ways  of  making  a  living. 

There  was  everywhere  a  feeling  of  breaking  up,  which  cor- 
responded well  with  Pelle's  own  condition ;  the  .uncertainty  of 
life  enveloped  everything  in  a  peculiarly  tense  atmosphere.  Pov- 
erty did  not  come  marching  in  close  columns  of  workmen;  its 
clothing  was  plentiful  and  varied;  it  might  appear  in  the  last 
woollen  material  from  the  big  houses  of  old  Copenhagen,  or  in 
gold-rimmed  spectacles  and  high  hat.  Pelle  thought  he  knew 
all  the  trades,  but  here  there  were  hundreds  of  businesses  that 
could  not  be  organized;  every  day  he  discovered  new  and  re- 
markable trades.  He  remembered  how  difficult  it  had  been  to 
organize  out  here;  life  was  too  incalculable. 

There  was  room  here  for  everything;  next  door  to  one  an- 
other lived  people  whom  the  Movement  had  not  yet  gathered  in, 
and  people  who  had  been  pushed  up  out  of  it  in  obstinate  defi- 
ance. There  was  room  here  for  him  too;  the  shadow  he  had 
dreaded  did  not  follow  him.  The  people  had  seen  too  much  of 
life  to  interfere  in  one  another's  affairs;  respectable  citizen^p 
had  not  been  able  to  take  possession  of  the  poor  man.  There 
was  something  of  the  ''Ark"  about  this  part  of  the  town,  only 
not  its  hopelessness ;  on  the  contrary,  all  possibilities  were  to  be 


440  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOE 

found  here.  The  poor  man  had  conquered  this  ground  from  the 
rich  citizens^  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  development  had  got  its 
direction  from  them.  Here  it  was  the  proletariat  whose  varied 
natnre  forced  its  way  upward^  and  leavened — so  to  speak — the 
whole.  In  the  long  side  streets^  which,  were  full  of  second-hand 
dealers  and  pawnbrokers^  eristence  had  not  resolved  itself  into 
its  various  constituents.  Qirls  and  gamblers  were  next-door 
neighbors  to  old^  peaceable  townsfolk,  who  lived  soberly  on  the 
interest  of  their  money,  and  went  to  church  every  Sunday 
with  their  hymn-books  in  their  hands.  The  ironmonger  had 
gold  watches  and  antique  articles  among  the  lumber  in  his 
cellar. 

Pelle  went  along  Yesterbro  Street.  The  summer  holidays 
were  just  over,  and  the  pavement  on  the  Figaro  side  was  crowded 
with  sunburnt  people — ^business-men,  students  and  college  girls 
— ^who  were  conspicuous  in  the  throng  by  their  high  spirits. 
They  had  just  returned  to  town,  and  still  had  the  scent  of  fredi 
breeze  and  shore  about  them :  it  was  almost  as  good  as  a  walk 
in  the  country.  And  if  he  wanted  to  go  farther  out  into  the 
world,  he  could  do  that  too;  there  were  figures  enough  in  the 
Yesterbro  neighborhood  to  arrest  his  fancy  and  carry  him  forth. 
It  was  like  a  quay  on  which  people  from  all  parts  of  the  world 
had  agreed  to  meet — artists,  seamen  and  international  agents. 
Strange  womeA  came  sailing  through  the  crowd,  large,  exotic, 
like  hot-house  fruits;  Pelle  recognized  them  from  the  picture  of 
the  second-hand  dealer's  daughter  in  the  ''Ark,**  and  knew  that 
they  belonged  to  the  international  nursing  corps.  They  wore 
striped  costumes,  and  their  thick,  fair  hair  emitted  a  perfume 
of  foreign  lands,  of  many  ports  and  routes,  like  the  interior  of 
steamers;  and  their  strong,  placid  faces  were  big  with  massage. 
They  floated  majestically  down  the  current  like  full-rigged  ves- 
sels. In  their  wake  foUowed  some  energetic  little  beings  who 
also  belonged  to  the  show,  and  had  decked  themselves  out  to 
look  like  children,  with  puffed  sleeves,  short  skirts,  and  hair 
tied  up  with  ribbons.  Feeble  old  men,  whom  the  sun  had  en- 
ticed  out,  stood  in  silent  wonder,  following  the  lovely  children 
with  their  eyes. 

Pelle  felt  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  being  carried  along  with 
this  stream  which  flowed  like  life  itself,  broad  and  calm.     The 


DAYBBEAK  441 

vorld  was  greater  than  he  had  thought^  and  he  took  no  side 
for  or  against  anything,  but  merely  wondered  over  its  variety. 
***** 

He  came  home,  from  the  library  at  two,  with  a  large  volume 
of  statistics  under  his  ann.    Ellen  received  him  with  i^  eyes. 

'^ave  your  lodgers  been  making  things  unpleasant  for  you 
again?''  he  asked,  looking  into  her  face.  She  turned  her  head 
away. 

*T)id  you  get  the  money  for  your  work?'*  she  asked  instead 
of  answering. 

^^o,  the  man  wasn't  in  the  shop  himself.  They^  coming 
here  to  pay.** 

'Then  we  haven't  got  a  farthing,  and  I've  got  no  dinner  for 
you!'*  She  tried  to  smile  as  she  spoke,  but  her  heavy  eyelids 
quivered* 

*l8  that  all  ?"  said  Pelle,  putting  his  arm  round  her.  ^'Why 
didn't  you  make  me  some  porridge  ?  I  should  have  liked  a  good 
plateful  of  that.** 

^  have  made  it,  but  you*ll  get  hardly  anything  else,  and 
that*8  no  food  for  a  man.** 

He  took  her  round  the  waist  with  both  hands,  lifted  her  up 
and  put  her  carefully  down  upon  the  kitchen  table.  'That* a 
porridge,  my  dear  I"  he  said  merrily.  *T.  can  hardly  walk,  I'm 
so  strong!** 

But  there  was  no  smile  to  be  coaxed  out  of  Ellen ;  something 
had  happened  that  she  did  not  want  to  tell  him.  At  last  he 
got  out  of  her  that  the  two  musical  clowns  had  gone  off  without 
paying.  They  had  spoiled  her  good  bed-clothes  by  lying  in  them 
with  their  clothes  on,  and  had  made  them  so  filthy  thaft  nothing 
could  be  done  with  them.  She  was  unwilling  to  tell  Pelle,  be- 
cause he  had  once  advised  her  against  it;  but  all  at  once  she 
gave  in  completely,  ^rfou  mustn't  laugh  at  me  I'*  she  sobbed, 
hiding  her  face  on  his  shoulder. 

Pelle  attempted  to  comfort  her,  but  it  was  not  so  easily 
done*  It  was  not  the  one  misfortune  but  the  whole  fiasco  that 
had  .upset  her  so ;  she  had  promised  herself  so  much  from  her 
great  plan,  '^t  isn't  all  lost  yet,"  he  said  to  comfort  her. 
*«We11  just  keep  on  and  youll  see  itTl  be  all  right.** 

Ellen  was  not  to  be  hoodwinked,  however.    Tfou  know  you 


442  PELLE   THE    CONQTJEROE 

dont  mean  it^''  she  said  angrily,  ^ou  only  say  it  because  of 
me  I  And  the  second-hand  dealer  sent  np  word  this  morning 
that  if  he  didn't  soon  get  the  rest  of  his  money,  he'd  take  all 
the  fnmitnre  back  again.'' 

Then  let  him  take  it,  and  thatH  be  an  end  of  tiie  matter." 

^nt  then  we  shall  lose  all  that  we've  paid  I"  she  exclaimed 
quickly,  drying  her  eyes. 

Pdle  shrugged  his  shoulders.    'That  can't  be  helped.** 

"Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  get  the  things  sold  little  by  Mtfle? 
We  only  owe  a  third  on  them." 

'We  can't  do  that ;  if  s  punishable.  We've  got  a  contract  for 
the  hire  of  the  furniture,  and  as  long  as  we  owe  a  farthing  on  it^ 
ifs  his.  But  we're  well  and  strong  all  of  us;  what  does  it 
matter?" 

'Thaf  s  true  enough,"  answered  Ellen,  trying  to  smile,  '^but 
the  stronger  we  are,  the  more  food  we  need." 

A  girl  came  running  up  with  a  pair  of  boots  that  were  to  be 
soled  as  quickly  as  possible.  They  were  ''Queen  Theresa's,"  and 
she  was  going  to  wear  them  in  the  evening.  "That'll  bring  us 
in  a  few  pence  I"  said  Ellen,  brightening.  "Ill  help  you  to  get 
them  done  quickly." 

They  seated  themselves  one  on  each  side  of  the  counter,  and 
set  to  work.  It  reminded  them  of  the  early  days  of  their  mar- 
ried life.  Now  and  then  they  stopped  to  laugh,  when  Ellen  had 
forgotten  some  knack.  In  an  hour  and  a  half  the  boots  were 
ready,  and  Pelle  went  himself  with  them  to  make  sure  of  tiie 
money. 

"Youll  most  likely  find  her  in  the  tavern,"  said  EUen.  The 
artistes  generally  have  their  dinner  at  this  hour,  and  she's  prob- 
ably there." 

It  was  a  busy  time  in  the  artistes'  restaurant.  At  the  small 
tables  sat  bony,  close-cropped  men  of  a  peculiar  rubicund  type, 
having  dinner  with  some  girl  or  other  from  the  neighborhood. 
They  were  acrobats,  clowns,  and  wrestlers,  people  of  a  homogene- 
ous type,  dressed  in  loud  diecks,  with  enormous  cuffs  and  boots 
with  dmost  armor-plated  toes.  They  chewed  well  and  looked  up 
stupidly  at  the  call  of  the  girls ;  they  wore  a  hard,  brutal  mask 
for  a  face,  and  big  diamond  rings  on  their  fingers.  Some  of 
them  had  such  a  powerful  lower  jaw  that  they  looked  as  if  Ibej 


DAYBEEAK  443 

had  developed  it  for  the  purpose  of  taking  blows  in  a  boxing- 
match.  In  the  adjoining  room  some  elegant  yoimg  men  were 
playing  billiards  while  they  secretly  kept  an  eye  on  what  was 
going  on  at  the  tables.  They  had  curls  on  their  forehead^  and 
patent  leather  shoes. 

^Queen  Theresa^'  was  not  there,  so  Pelle  went  to  Dannebrog 
Street,  where  she  lived,  but  found  she  was  not  at  home.  He 
had  to  hand  in  the  boots  to  a  neighbor,  and  go  bade  empty- 
handed. 

Well,  it  was  no  more  than  might  have  been  expected.  When 
you  needed  a  thing  most,  chance  played  with  you  as  a  cat  played 
with  a  mouse.  Pelle  was  not  nearly  so  cheerful  as  he  appeared 
to  be  when  he  faced  Ellen.  The  reality  was  beginning  to  afiFect 
him.  He  went  out  to  Morten,  but  without  any  faith  in  the 
result;  Morten  had  many  uses  for  what  he  earned. 

'TTouVe  just  come  at  the  right  moment!'*  said  Morten, 
waving  two  notes  in  the  air.    **I\e  just  had  twenty  krones  (a^ 
guinea)  sent  me  from  The  Working  Man^  and  we  can  divide 
them.    Ifs  the  first  money  IVe  got  from  that  quarter,  so  of 
course  I've  spat  upon  it  three  times.'* 

*Tlien  theyVe  found  their  way  to  you,  after  all  1"  exclaimed 
Pelle  joyfully. 

Morten  laughed.  *^  got  tired  of  seeing  my  work  repeated 
in  their  paper,"  he  said,  **when  theyTl  have  nothing  to  do  with 
me  up  there;  and  I  went  up  to  them  and  drew  their  attention 
to  the  paragraph  about  piracy.  You  should  have  seen  their 
expression!  Goodness  knows  ifs  not  pleasant  to  have  to  earn 
your  bread  on  wretchedness,  so  to  speak,  but  if  s  still  more  pain- 
ful  when  afterward  you  have  to  beg  for  your  hard-earned  pence. 
You  mustn't  think  I  should  do  it  either  under  other  circum- 
stances; I'd  sooner  starve;  but  at  any  rate  I  won't  be  sweated 
by  my  own  side !    If  s  a  long  time  since  you  were  here." 

^*ve  been  so  busy.  How's  Johanna  ?"  The  last  words  were 
spoken  in  a  whisper. 

^ot  well  just  now;  she's  keeping  her  bed.  She's  always 
asking  after  you." 

^'ve  been  very  busy  lately,  and  unfortunately  I  cant  iBnd 
out  anything  about  her.    Is  she  just  as  cross?" 

^'When  ^e's  in  a  bad  temper  die  lets  me  understand  that  she 


444  PELLE  THE   CONQTJEROB 

could  easily  help  to  put  ns  on  the  right  track  if  she  wanted  to. 
I  think  it  amuses  her  to  see  us  fooled.^ 

^'A  child  can't  be  so  knowing  !** 

^Dont  be  so  sure  of  that!  Bemember  she's  not  a  child;  her 
experiences  have  been  too  terrible.  I  have  an  idea  that  she  hates 
me  and  only  meditates  on  the  mischief  she  can  do  me.  Yon 
can't  imagine  how  spiteful  she  can  be;  if s  as  though  the  ex- 
halations from  down  there  had  turned  to  poison  in  her.  If  any 
one  comes  here  that  she  notices  I  like^  she  reviles  them  as  soon 
as  they're  gone^  says  some  poisonous  thing  about  them  in  order 
to  wound  me.  You're  the  only  one  she  spares^  so  I  think  there 
must  be  some  secret  link  between  you.  Try  to  press  her  on  the 
subject  once  more." 

They  went  in  to  her.  As  the  door  opened  she  slipped  hastily 
down  beneath  the  clothes — she  had  been  listoning  at  the  door — 
and  pretended  to  be  asleep.  Morten  went  bad:  to  his  work  and 
closed  the  door  after  him. 

'^ell,  Johanna/'  said  Pelle,  seating  himself  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed.  'Ttc  got  a  message  for  you.  Can  you  guess  who  if s 
from?" 

^Trom  grandmother !"  she  exclaimed,  sitting  up  eagerly;  but 
the  next  moment  she  was  ashamed  at  having  been  outwitted,  and 
crept  down  under  the  clothes,  where  she  lay  with  compressed 
lips,  and  stole  distrustful  glances  at  Pelle.  There  was  something 
in  the  glance  and  the  carriage  of  her  head  that  awakened  dor- 
mant memories  in  him,  but  he  could  not  fix  them. 

'TTo,  not  grandmother,"  he  said.  **By-the-bye,  where  is  she 
now?  I  should  like  to  speak  to  her.  Couldn't  you  go  out  to 
her  with  me  when  you  get  well?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  sparkling  eyes  and  a  mocking  ex- 
pression.   'Don't  you  wish  you  may  get  it  1"  she  answered.  ^ 

^ell  me  where  she  lives,  Johanna,"  Pelle  went  on,  taking 
her  thin  hand  in  his,  ''there's  a  good  girl  I" 

"Oh,  yes,  at  night!" 

Pelle  frowned.  Tfou  must  be  very  heartless,  when  you  can 
leave  your  old  grandmother  and  not  even  like  otb^rs  to  help  her. 
I'm  certain  she's  in  want  somewhere  or  other." 

Johanna  looked  at  him  angrily.  ^  whipped  her  too,"  she 
exclaimed  malignantly,  and  then  burst  into  a  laugh  at  Pellets 


DAYBEEAK  445 

expression.  *^o,  I  didn^t  really/'  she  said  reassuringly.  ^T. 
only  took  away  her  stick  and  hid  her  spectacles  so  that  she 
couldn't  go  out  and  fetch  the  cream.  So  she  was  obliged  to  send 
me^  and  I  drank  up  all  the  cream  and  put  water  In  the  can.  She 
couldn't  see  it^  so  she  scolded  the  milk  people  because  they 
cheated." 

'HTou're  making  all  this  up,  I  think,**  said  Pelle  uncertainly. 

*r[  picked  the  crumb  out  of  the  loaf  too,  and  let  her  eat  the 
crust,"  Johanna  continued  with  a  nod, 

**Now  stop  that,"  said  Pelle,  stroking  her  damp  forehead. 
**I  know  quite  well  that  I've  offended  you." 

She  pushed  away  his  hand  angrily,  *T)o  you  know  what  I 
wish?"  she  said  suddenly.    *1  wish  you  were  my  father," 

*^ould  you  like  me  to  be?" 

^es,  for  when  you  became  quite  poor  and  ill,  I'd  treat  you 
just  as  well  as  I've  treated  grandmother."  She  laughed  a  harsh 
laugh, 

'I'm  certain  you've  only  been  kind  to  grandmother,"  said 
Pelle  gravely. 

She  looked  hard  at  him  to  see  whether  he  meant  this  too, 
and  then  tamed  her  face  to  the  wall.  He  could  see  from  the 
curve  of  her  body  that  she  was  struggling  to  keep  back  her 
tears,  and  he  tried  to  turn  her  round  to  him ;  but  she  stiffened 
herself. 

^T.  won't  live  with  grandmother!"  she  whispered  emphati* 
cally,  '1  won't!" 

**And  yet  you're  fond  of  her !" 

'^o,  I'm  not !  I  can't  bear  her !  She  told  the  woman  next 
door  that  I  was  only  in  the  way !  It  was  that  confounded  child's 
fault  that  she  couldn't  get  into  the  Home,  she  said;  I  heard  her 
myself !  And  yet  I  went  about  and  begged  all  the  food  for  her. 
But  then  I  left  her !"  She  jerked  the  sentences  out  in  a  voice 
that  was  quite  hoarse,  and  crumpled  the  sheet  up  in  her  hands. 

**But  do  tell  me  where  she  ie!"  said  Pelle  earnestly.  **I 
promise  you  you  shan't  go  to  her  if  you  don't  want  to." 

The  child  kept  a  stubborn  silence.  She  did  not  believe  in 
promises. 

*^ell,  then,  I  must  go  to  the  police  to  find  her,  but  I  don't 
want  to  do  that" 


446  PELLE   THE   CONQITEEOE 

'^o,  becaoBe  youNre  been  in  prison  l**  she  exclaimed,  with  t 
flhort  laugh* 

A  pained  expression  passed  over  Pelle's  &oe.  *Tio  you  tliink 
tbafs  so  fnnny?^  he  said,  winking  his  eyes  fast  'Vm  mm 
grandmother  didnt  langh  at  if 

Johanna  tofned  half  roimd.  '^o,  she  cried  P  die  said. 
^^There  was  no  one  to  give  ns  food  then,  and  so  she  cried.** 

It  b^;an  to  dawn  npon  him  who  she  was.  ''What  became 
of  you  two  that  day  on  the  common  ?  We  were  going  to  have 
dinner  together,''  he  said. 

''When  you  were  taken  up?  Oh,  we  couldnt  find  you,  so  we 
just  went  home.''  Her  face  was  now  quite  uncovered,  and  die 
lay  looking  at  him  with  her  large  gray  eyes.  It  was  Hanne^ 
look;  behind  it  was  the  same  wondering  over  life,  but  here  was 
added  to  it  a  terrible  knowledge.  Suddenly  her  face  changed; 
she  discovered  that  she  had  been  outwitted,  and  glared  at  him. 

"Is  it  true  that  ycm  and  mother  were  once  sweethearts?''  she 
suddenly  asked  mischievously. 

Pelle's  face  flushed.  The  question  had  taken  him  by  sur- 
prise. "Ill  tell  you  everything  about  your  mother  if  youll  tell 
me  what  you  know,"  he  said,  looking  straight  at  her. 

"What  is  it  you  want  to  know?"  she  asked  in  a  cross-ques- 
tioning tone.    "Are  you  going  to  write  about  me  in  the  papers?" 

"My  dear  child,  we  must  find  your  grandmother !  She  may 
be  starving." 

"I  think  she's  at  the  'Gtenerality,' "  said  the  child  quietly. 
"I  went  there  on  Thursday  when  the  old  things  had  leave  to  go 
out  and  beg  for  a  little  coffee;  and  one  day  I  saw  her." 

"Didn't  you  go  up  to  her  then  ?" 

"No;  I  was  tired  of  listening  to  her  lamentations  I" 

Johfljma  was  no  longer  stiff  and  defiant.  She  lay  with  her 
face  turned  away  and  answered — a  little  sullenly — ^Pelle's  ques- 
tions, while  she  played  nervously  with  his  fingers.  Her  brief 
answers  made  up  for  him  one  connected,  sad  story. 

Widow  Johnsen  was  not  worth  much  when  once  the  "Ark" 
was  burnt  down.  She  felt  old  and  helpless  everywhere  else, 
and  when  Pelle  went  to  prison,  she  collapsed  entirely.  She  and 
the  little  girl  suffered  want,  and  when  Johanna  felt  herself  in 
the  way,  she  ran  away  to  a  place  where  she  could  be  comfort- 


DAYBREAK  447 

able.  Her  grandmofher  had  also  been  in  her  way.  She  had  her 
mother's  whimsical,  dreamy  nature,  and  now  she  gaye  up  eyery- 
thing  and  ran  away  to  meet  the  wonderful.  An  older  playfellow 
seduced  her  and  took  her  out  to  the  boys  of  the  timber-yard. 
There  she  was  left  to  take  care  of  herself,  often  slept  out  in  the 
open,  and  stole  now  and  then,  but  soon  learned  to  earn  money 
for  herself.  When  it  became  cold  she  went  as  scullery-maid  to 
the  inns  or  maid-of -all-work  to  the  women  in  Dannebrog  Street. 
Strange  to  say,  she  always  eluded  the  police.  At  first  there 
were  two  or  three  times  when  she  started  to  return  to  her  grand- 
mother,  but  went  no  farther  than  the  stairs ;  she  was  afraid  of 
being  punished,  and  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  having  to 
listen  to  the  old  lady's  complaints.  Later  on  she  became  accus- 
tomed to  her  new  way  of  living,  and  no  longer  felt  any  desire 
to  leave  it,  probably  because  she  had  begun  to  take  strong  drink. 
Now  and  again,  however,  she  stole  in  to  the  Home  and  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  grandmother.  She  could  not  explain  why  she 
did  it^  and  firmly  maintained  that  she  could  not  endure  her. 
The  old  woman's  unreasonable  complaint  that  she  was  an  en- 
cumbrance to  her  had  eaten  deeply  into  the  child's  mind.  Dur- 
ing the  last  year  she  had  been  a  waitress  for  some  time  at  a 
sailors'  tavern  down  in  Nyhavn  with  an  innkeeper  EUeby,  the 
confidence-man  who  had  fleeced  Pelle  on  his  first  arrival  in  the 
city.  It  was  Elleby's  custom  to  adopt  young  girls  so  as  to  evade 
the  law  and  have  women-servants  for  his  sailors;  and  they  gen- 
erally died  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  two:  he  always  wore  a 
crape  band  round  his  sleeve.  Johanna  was  also  to  have  been 
adopted,  but  ran  away  in  time. 

She  slowly  confessed  it  all  to  Pelle,  coarse  and  horrible  as  it 
was,  with  the  instinctive  confidence  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
^Ark"  had  placed  in  him,  and  which  had  been  inherited  by  her 
from  her  mother  and  grandmother.  What  an  abyss  of  horrors  I 
And  he  had  been  thinking  that  there  was  no  hurry,  that  life 
was  richer  than  that!  But  the  children,  the  children!  Were 
they  to  wait  too,  while  he  surveyed  the  varied  forms  of  ex- 
istence— ^wait  and  go  to  ruin  ?  Was  there  on  the  whole  any  need 
of  knowledge  and  comprehensiveness  of  survey  in  order  to  fight 
for  juster  conditions  ?  Was  anything  necessary  beyond  the  state 
of  being  good?    While  he  sat  and  read  books,  children  were 


448  PELLE   THE   CONQXJEBOE 

perhaps  being  trodden  down  by  thousands.  Did  this  also  belong 
to  life  and  require  caution?  For  the  first  time  he  doubted 
himself. 

^^ow  you  must  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep/'  he  said  gently, 
and  stroked  her  forehead.  It  was  burning  hot  and  throbbed, 
and  alarmed  he  felt  her  pulse.  Her  hand  dropped  into  his,  thin 
and  worn,  and  her  pulse  was  irregular.  Alas^  Hanne's  fever  was 
raging  within  her ! 

She  held  his  hand  tight  when  he  rose  to  go.  ^^ere  you  and 
mother  sweethearts,  then  ?'*  she  asked  in  a  whisper,  with  a  lode 
of  expectation  in  the  bright  eyes  that  she  fixed  upon  him.  And 
suddenly  he  understood  the  reiterated  question  and  all  ber 
strange  compliance  with  his  wishes. 

For  a  moment  he  looked  waveringly  into  her  expectant  eyes. 
Then  he  nodded  slowly.  **Tes,  Johanna ;  you're  my  little  daugh- 
ter I''  he  said,  bending  down  over  her.  Her  pale  face  was  lighted 
with  a  faint  smile,  and  she  shyly  touched  his  stubbly  chin  and 
then  turned  over  to  go  to  sleep. 

In  a  few  words  Pelle  told  Morten  the  child's  previous  his- 
tory— Madam  Johns^  and  her  husband's  vain  fight  to.  get  on, 
his  horrible  death  in  the  sewer,  how  Hanne  had  grown  up  as 
the  beautiful  princess  of  the  ^'Ark" — ^Hanne  who  meant  to  have 
happiness,  and  had  instead  this  poor  child  1 

'TTou've  never  told  me  anything  about  Hanne,*'  said  Morten, 
looking  at  him. 

**No,"  said  Pelle  slowly.  ''She  was  always  so  strangely  un- 
real to  me,  like  an  all  too  beautiful  dream.  Do  you  know  she 
danced  herself  to  death  I  But  you  must  pretend  to  the  child 
that  I'm  her  father." 

Morten  nodded.  'Tou  might  go  out  to  the  Home  for  me, 
and  hear  about  the  old  lady.  If  s  a  pity  she  should  have  to 
spend  her  old  age  there  t"    He  looked  round  the  room. 

^TTou  can't  have  her  here,  however,"  said  Pelle. 

''It  might  perhaps  be  arranged.  She  and  the  child  belong 
to  one  another." 

Pelle  first  went  home  to  Ellen  with  the  money  and  tiien  out 
to  the  Home. 

Madam  Johnsen  was  in  the  infirmary,  and  could  not  live 
many  days.    It  was  a  little  while  before  she  recognized  PeUe, 


DAYBBBAK 


449 


and  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  past.  It  made  no  impres- 
sion whatever  on  her  when  he  told  her  that  her  grandchild  had 
been  found.  She  lay  most  of  the  time^  talking  unintelligibly; 
she  thought  she  still  had  to  get  money  for  the  rent  and  for  food 
for  herself  and  the  child.  The  troubles  of  old  age  had  made  an 
indelible  impression  upon  her.  ''She  gets  no  pleasure  out  of 
lying  here  and  being  comfortable/^  said  an  old  woman  who  lay 
in  the  next  bed  to  hers.  ''She's  always  trying  and  trying  to 
get  things,  and  when  she's  free  of  that,  she  goes  to  Jutland.'^ 

At  the  sound  of  the  last  word,  Madam,  Johnsen  fixed  her 
eyes  upon  Pelle.  "I  shoidd  so  like  to  see  Jutland  again  before 
I  die/'  she  said.  "Ever  since  I  came  over  here  in  my  young 
days,  I've  always  meant  to  use  the  first  money  I  had  over  on  an 
excursion  home;  but  I  never  managed  it.  Hanne's  child  had  to 
live  too,  and  they  eat  a  lot  at  her  age."  And  so  she  was  back 
in  her  troubles  again. 

The  nurse  came  and  told  Pelle  that  he  must  go  now,  and 
he  rose  and  bent  over  the  old  woman  to  say  farewell,  strangely 
moved  at  the  thought  that  she  had  done  so  much  for  him,  and 
now  scarcely  knew  him.  She  felt  for  his  hand  and  held  it  in 
both  hers  like  a  blind  person  trying  to  recognize,  and  she  looked 
at  him  with  her  expressionless  eyes  that  were  already  dimmed 
by  approaching  death.  "You  still  have  a  good  hand,"  she  said 
slowly,  with  the  far-sounding  voice  of  old  age.  "Hanne  should 
have  taken  you,  and  then  things  would  have  been  very  dif- 
ferenC' 


Pboflb  wondered,  at  fhe  library,  over  fhe  gra^e,  siknt 
working-man  who  took  hold  of  books  as  if  they  were  bridn. 
They  l^ed  him  and  helped  him  to  find  what  he  wanted. 

Among  the  staff  there  was  an  old  librarian  who  often  came 
and  asked  Pelle  if  there  were  anything  he  conld  help  him  with. 
He  was  a  little  wizened  man  with  gold  spectacles  and  thin  white 
hair  and  beard  that  gave  a  smiling  expression  to  his  pale  face. 
He  had  spent  his  time  among  the  stacks  of  books  during  the 
greater  part  of  his  life ;  the  dust  of  the  books  had  attadced  his 
chest,  and  every  minute  his  dry  cough  sounded  through  the 
room. 

Librarian  Brun  was  a  bachelor  and  was  said  to  be  very  rich. 
He  was  not  particularly  neat  or  careful  in  his  dress,  but  there 
was  something  unspoiled  about  his  person  that  made  one  think 
he  could  never  luiye  been  subjected  to  the  world's  rough 
handling.  In  his  writings  he  was  a  fanatical  worshipper  of  the 
ego,  and  ^eld  up  the  law  of  conscience  as  the  only  one  to  which 
men  should  be  subject  Personally  he  was  reserved  and  shy, 
but  something  drew  him  to  Pelle,  who,  he  knew,  had  once  been 
the  soul  in  the  raising  of  the  masses;  and  he  followed  with  won- 
der and  curiosity  the  development  of  the  new  working-man. 
Now  and  then  he  brought  one  of  his  essays  to  Pelle  and  asked 
him  to  read  it  It  often  treated  of  the  nature  of  personality, 
took  as  its  starting-point  the  %o  of  some  philosopher  or  other, 
or  of  such  and  such  a  religion,  and  attempted  to  get  at  the 
questions  of  the  day.  They  conversed  in  whispers  on  the  sub- 
ject The  old,  easily-approached  philosopher,  who  was  read  by 
very  few,  cherished  an  unrequited  affection  for  the  general  pub- 
lic, and  listened  eagerly  to  what  a  working-man  might  be  able 
to  make  out  of  his  ideas.    Quiet  and  almost  timid  thou^  his 

4S0 


DAYBREAK  451 

maimer  waa^  his  views  were  strongs  and  he  did  not  flinch  from 
the  thought  of  employing  violent  measures;  but  h^  attitude  to- 
ward the  raising  of  the  lower  classes  was  scepticaL  '^They  don't 
know  how  to  read/'  he  said.  '^The  common  people  never  touch 
a  real  book/'  He  had  lived  so  long  among  books  that  he  thought 
the  truths  of  life  were  hidden  away  in  them. 

They  gradually  became  well  acquaruted  with  one  another. 
Brun  was  the  last  descendant  of  an  old^  decayed  family^  which 
had  been  rich  for  many  generations.  He  despised  money^  and 
did  not  consider  it  to  be  one  of  the  valuable  things  of  life. 
Never  having  known  want,  he  had  few  pretensions,  and  often 
denied  himself  to  help  others.  It  was  said  that  he  lived  in  a 
very  Spartan  fashion,  and  used  a  large  proportion  of  his  income 
for  the  relief  of  the  poor.  On  many  points  he  agreed  with  the 
lower  classes,  not  only  theoretically  but  purely  organically;  and 
Pelle  saw,  to  his  amazement,  that  the  dissolution  of  existing 
conditions  could  also  take  place  from  the  upper  grades  of  so- 
ciety. Perhaps  the  future  was  .preparing  itself  at  both  ex- 
tremities! 

One  day  Brun  carefully  led  the  conversation  on  to  Pelle's 
private  affairs :  he  seemed  to  know  something  about  them,  ^snt 
there  anything  you  want  to  start?"  he  asked.  ^T.  should  be  so 
glad  if  you  would  allow  me  to  help  you." 

Pelle  was  not  yet  clear  as  to  what  was  to  be  done  about  Die 
future.  ^'At  present,"  he  said,  ^he  whole  thing  is  just  a  chaos 
to  me." 

'^ut  you  must  live  I  Will  you  do  me  the  favor  of  taking  a 
loan  from  me  at  any  rate,  while  you're  looking  about  you? 
Money  is  necessary  to  make  one  capable  and  free,"  he  continued, 
when  Pelle  refused  it.  *1f s  a  pity,  but  so  it  is.  You  don't  take 
what  you  want  anyhow,  so  you  must  either  get  the  money  in 
the  way  that  offers,  or  do  witiiout." 

^TThen  111  do  without,"  said  PeUe. 

^^t  seems  to.me  thaf  s  what  you  and  yours  have  always  done, 
and  have  you  ever  succeeded  in  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  tiie  head 
of  society  by  it?  You  set  too  high  a  value  upon  money;  the 
common*  people  have  too  great  respect  for  the  property  of 
others.  And  upon  my  word  if s  true!  The  good  old  poor  man 
could  scarcely  find  it  in  his  heart  to  put  anything  into  his  own 


462  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOE 

miserable  mouth;  his  wife  was  to  have  all  the  good  pieces.  So 
he  is  moomed  as  lost  to  our  side;  he  was  so  easy  to  get  wealth 
by.    His  progeny  still  go  about  with  a  good  deal  of  it." 

**Money  makes  you  dependent,*'  Pelle  objected. 

*^ot  always/'  answered  Brun,  laughing.  **In  my  world 
people  borrow  and  take  on  credit  without  a  thought:  the  greater 
the  debt,  the  better  it  is;  they  never  treat  a  man  worse  than 
when  th/sy  owe  him  money.  On  that  point  we  are  very  much 
more  emancipated  than  you  are,  indeed  thaf  s  where  the  divid- 
ing line  goes  between  the  upper  classes  and  the  common  people. 
This  fear  of  becoming  indebted  to  any  one,  and  carefulness  to 
do  two  services  in  return  for  one,  is  all  very  nice  and  profitable 
in  your  own  world ;  but  it's  what  youTl  be  run  down  by  in  your 
relations  to  us.  We  don't  know  it  at  all;  how  otherwise  would 
those  people  get  on  who  have  to  let  themselves  be  helped  from 
their  cradle  to  their  grave,  and  live  exclusively  upon  services 
received?" 

Pelle  looked  at  him  in  bewilderment.  ^Toor  people  have 
nothing  but  their  sense  of  honor,  and  so  they  watch  over  it," 
he  said. 

^And  you've  really  never  halted  at  this  sense  of  honor  fiiat 
works  so  splendidly  in  our  favor?"  asked  Brun  in  surprise. 
^Just  examine  the  existing  morals,  and  youll  discover  that  they 
must  have  been  invented  by  us — ^for  your  use.  Yes,  you're  sur- 
prised to  hear  me  say  that,  but  then  I'm  a  degenerate  upper- 
class  man,  one  of  those  who  fall  outside  the  established  order  of 
things.  I  saw  your  amazement  at  my  not  having  patted  you  on 
the  shoulder  and  said :  Toor  but  proud  I  Go  on  being  so,  young 
man !'  But  you  mustn't  draw  too  far-reaching  conclusions  from 
that ;  as  I  told  you,  I'm  not  that  sort.  Now  mayn't  I  give  you 
a  helping  hand?" 

No,  Pelle  was  quite  determined  he  should  not.  Something 
had  been  shattered  within  him,  and  the  knowledge  made  him 
restive. 

^^ou're  an  obstinate  plebeian,"  said  Brun,  half  vexed. 

On  his  way  home  Pelle  thought  it  all  over.  Of  course  he  had 
always  been  quite  aware  that  the  whole  thing  resembled  a  gen- 
tleman's carriage,  in  which  he  and  others  like  him  had  to  be  the 
horses;  the  laws  and  general  arrangement  were  the  reins  and 


DAYBREAK  458 

harness^  which  made  them  draw  the  carriage  welL  The  only 
thing  was  that  it  was  always  denied  from  the  other  side ;  he  was 
toiling  at  history  and  statistics  in  order  to  famish  incontro- 
vertible proof  of  this.  But  here  was  some  one  who  sat  in  the 
carriage  himself^  and  gave  evidence  to  the  effect  that  it  was  right 
enough;  and  &is  was  not  a  book^  but  a  living  man  with  whom 
he  stood  face  to  face.    It  gave  an  immense  support  to  his  belief. 

There  was  need  enough  for  it  too,  for  at  home  things  were 
going  badly.  The  letting  of  rooms  was  ai;  a  standstill,  and  Ellen 
was  selling  the  furniture  as  fast  as  she  could.  ''It's  all  the 
same  to  me-  what  the  law  is  \^  was  her  reply  to  Pellets  warnings. 
''There  surelj  can  be  no  sense  in  our  having  to  make  the  furni- 
ture-dealer a  present  of  all  weVe  paid  upon  it,  just  because  he 
has  a  scrap  of  paper  against  us.  When  the  furniture's  sold,  he 
shall  have  the  rest  of  what  we  owe  him.'' 

He  did  not  get  the  whole,  hpwever,  for  in  the  first  place 
they  had  to  live.  The  remainder  of  the  debt  hung  like  a  threat 
over  them ;  if  he  discovered  that  the  furniture  was  sold,  it  might 
end  badly  for  them.  "Bemember  I've  been  in  prison  before," 
said  Felle. 

"They  surely  cant  punish  you  for  what  I've  done?"  said 
Ellen,  looking  at  him  in  terror,  'Telle,  Pelle,  what  have  I 
done !  Why  didn't  I  do  what  you  told  me !"  For  a  time  she 
collapsed,  but  then  suddenly  rose  energetically,  saying:  "Then 
we  must  get  it  paid  at  once.  If  s  surely  possible  to  &id  twenty 
'krones  (a  guinea) !"  And  hastening  up  to  their  flat,  she 
quickly  letumed  in  her  hat  and  jacket 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  asked  Pelle  in  amazement. 

"What  am  I  going  to  do?  I'm  going  to  'Queen  Theresa.' 
She  can  get  it !  l)on't  be  afraid !"  she  said,  bending  down  and 
kissing  him.  She  soon  returned  with  the  money.  "I  may  pay  it 
back  by  washing/*  she  said  cheerfully. 

So  that  matter  was  settled,  and  they  would  have  been  glad 
if  the  loan  had  been  the  same.  It  scarcely  moved,  however ;  the 
instalments  ate  themselves  up  in  some  wonderful  way.  Two 
or  three  times  they  had  had  to  ask  for  a  postponement,  and 
each  time  the  usurer  added  the  amount  of  the  instalment  to  the 
sum  still  owing ;  he  called  it  punishment  interest. 

Pelle  read  seldom;  he  felt  no  wish  to  do  so.    He  was  out 


464  PELLS  THE  CONQTJEBOB 

early  and  late  looking  for  a  job.  He  fetched  and  took  bad: 
fomitore  in  the  town  for  the  eecond-hand  dealer^  and  did  any- 
thing else  that  came  to  hand. 

One  evening  EUen  came  np  with  a  newspaper  catting  tiiat 
^Qneen  Theresa'^  had  sent  her,  an  advertisement  of  a  good, 
wdl-paid  situation  for  a  trustworthy  man,  who  had  been  trained 
as  a  shoemaker,  ^f  s  this  morning's,'^  said  Ellen  anxiously,  ^so 
I  only  hope  it  isn't  too  late.  You  must  go  out  there  at  once." 
She  took  out  Pellets  Sunday  clothes  quickly,  and  helped  him  to 
make  himself  tidy.  It  was  for  a  boot-factory  in  Borger  Street 
Pelle  took  the  tram  in  order  to  get  there  quickly,  but  he  had  no 
great  hopes  of  getting  the  place.  The  manufacturer  was  one  of 
his  most  bitter  opponents  among  the  employers  at  the  time 
when  he  was  organizing  the  trade— a  young  master-shoemaker 
who  had  had  the  good  sense  to  follow  the  devebpment  and  take 
the  leap  over  to  manufacturer. 

''Oh,  ifs  you,  is  it?''  he  said.  *Well,  well,  old  differences 
shant  stand  between  us  if  we  can  come  to  an  agreement  in 
other  ways.  What  I  want  is  a  man  wholl  look  a  little  after 
everything,  a  kind  of  right-hand  man  who  can  take  sometiiing 
off  my  shoulders  in  a  general  way,  and  superintend  the  whole 
thing  when  I'm  travelling.  I  think  youll  do  capitally  for  that, 
for' you've  got  influence  with  the  men;  and  I'd  like  things  to  go 
nicely  and  smoothly  with  them,  without  giving  in  to  &em  too 
much,  you  understand.  One  may  just  as  well  do  things  pleas- 
antly ;  it  doesn't  cost  an  atom  more,  according  to  my  experience, 
and  now  one  belongs  to  the  party  one's  self." 

^0  you  ?"  said  Pelle,  hardly  able  to  believe  his  ears. 

^es!  Why  shouldn't  an  employer  be  a  fellow-partisan? 
There's  nothing  to  be  afraid  of  when  once  you've  peeped  in  be- 
hind the  scenes;  and  it  has  its  advantages,  of  course.  In  ten 
years'  time  every  sensible  man  will  be  a  social  democrat.'^ 

^'That's  not  at  all  unlikely,"  said  Pelle,  laughing. 

^0,  is  iti  So  one  evening  I  said  to  my  wife:  1  say,  you 
know  it  wont  do  soon  to  own  that  you  dont  belong  to  the  party; 
in  other  countries  millionaires  and  counts  and  barons  already 
belong  to  it.'  She  didn't  quite  like  it,  but  now  she's  quite  satia- 
fied.  They're  quite  nice  people,  as  she  said  herself.  There  are 
even  persons  of  rank  among  them.    Well,  it  wasnt  conviction 


DAYBREAK  466 

that  droTe  me  at  first,  but  now  I  agree  because  what  they  say's 
very  sensible.  And  upon  my  word  ifs  the  only  party  that  can 
thrash  the  anarchists  properly,  don't  yon  think  so?  In  my 
opinion  all  should  imite  in  fighting  against  them,  and  thatll  be 
the  end  of  it,  I  suppose.  I've  reflected  a  good  deal  upon  politics 
and  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  we  employers  behaved  like 
asses  from  the  beginning.  We  oughtn't  to  have  struggled 
against  the  Movement;  it  only  drove  it  to  extremes.  Just  see 
how  well-behaved  if  s  become  since  we  began  to  take  off  our 
hats  to  it  I  You  become  what  you're  treated  as,  let  me  tell  you. 
You  wouldn't  have  acted  so  harshly  if  we  otiiers  had  been  a 
little  kinder  to  you.  Don't  you  allow  that?  You're  exactly 
like  every  one  else :  you  want  to  have  good  food  and  nice  clothes 
— ^be  considered  respectable  people.  So  it  was  wise  to  cut  off 
the  lower  end;  you  can't  rise  when  you've  too  much  lumber  as 
ballast  Fellows  who  pull  up  paving-stones  and  knock  you  down 
are  no  company  for  me.  You  must  have  patience  and  wait  until 
the  turn  comes  to  your  party  to  come  in  for  a  share:  those  are 
my  politics.   Well,  what  do  you  think  about  the  job  ?" 

^  don't  understand  the  machines,"  said  Pelle. 

^oull  soon  get  into  that  t  But  if  s  not  that  that  matters, 
if  only  you  know  how  to  treat  the  workmen,  and  that  of  course 
you  do.  Ill  pay  you  thirty-five  krones  (£2)  a  week — ^thaf  s  a 
good  weekly  wage — and  in  return  youll  have  an  eye  to  my  ad- 
vantage of  course.  One  doesn't  join  the  party  to  be  bled — you 
xmderstand  what  I  mean?  Then  you  get  a  free  house — ^in  the 
front  building  of  course — so  as  to  be  a  kind  of  vice-landlord  for 
the  back  building  here;  there  are  three  stairs  with  one-roomed 
flats.  I  can't  be  bothered  having  anything  to  do  with  that; 
there's  so  much  nonsense  about  the  mob.  They  do  damage  and 
dont  pay  if  they  can  help  it,  and  when  you're  a  little  flrm  with 
them  they  fly  to  the  papers  and  write  spiteful  letters.  Of  course 
I  dont  run  much  risk  of  that,  but  all  the  same  I  like  things  to 
go  smoothly,  partly  because  I  aspire  to  become  a  member  of  the 
management.  So  you  get  eighteen  hundred  krones  (£100)  a 
year  and  a  flat  at  four  bundled  (£22),  which  makes  two  thou- 
sand two  hundred  krones  (£122) — a  good  wage,  though  perhaps 
I  oughtn't  to  say  so  myself;  but  good  pay  makes  good  work. 
Well,  is  it  a  bargain  ?" 


456  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOR 

Pelle  wanted  to  have  till  the  next  day  to  fiiink  it  over. 

''What  do  you  want  to  think  over?  One  ought  never  to 
think  over  things  too  much ;  our  age  requires  action.  As  I  said 
before,  an  expert  knowledge  is  not  the  main  thing;  ifs  your 
authority  that  I  chiefly  want.  In  other  words^  youll  be  my 
confidential  man.  Well,  well,  then  you^  give  me  your  answer 
to-morrow.** 

Pelle  went  slowly  homeward.  He  did  not  know  why  he  had 
asked  time  to  think  it  over;  the  matter  was  settled.  If  you 
wanted  to  make  a  home,  you  must  take  the  consequences  of  it 
and  not  sneak  away  the  first  time  a  prospect  offered  of  making 
it  a  little  comfortable  for  your  wife  and  children.  So  now  he 
was  the  dog  set  to  watch  his  companions. 

He  went  down  the  King's  New  Market  and  into  the  fashion- 
able quarter.  It  was  bright  and  gay  here,  with  the  arc-lamps 
hanging  like  a  row  of  light-birds  above  the  asphalt,  now  and 
then  beating  their  wings  to  keep  themselves  poised.  They 
seemed  to  sweep  down  the  darkness  of  night,  and  great  shadows 
flickered  through  the  street  and  disappeared.  In  the  narrow 
side  streets  darkness  lay,  and  insistent  sounds  forced  their  way 
out  of  it — a  girl's  laugh,  the  crying  of  a  lonely  child,  the  cease- 
less bickering  of  a  cowed  woman.  But  people  strolled,  quietly 
conversing,  along  the  pavement  in  couples  and  heard  nothing. 
They  had  got  out  their  winter  coats,  and  were  luxuriating  in  fiie 
first  cold  weather. 

Music  sounded  from  the  large  cafis,  which  were  filled  to 
overflowing.  People  were  sitting  close  together  in  small  select 
companies,  and  looked  gay  and  happy.  On  the  tables  round 
which  they  sat,  stood  the  wine-cooler  with  the  champagne  bottle 
pointing  obliquely  upward  as  though  it  were  going  to  shoot  down 
heaven  itself  to  them.  How  secure  they  appeared  to  feel !  Had 
they  no  suspicion  that  they  were  sitting  upon  a  thin  (frust,  with 
the  hell  of  poverty  right  beneath  them  ?  Or  was  that  perhaps 
why  they  were  enjoying  themselves — ^to-day  your  turn,  to-morrow 
mine?  Perhaps  they  had  become  reconciled  to  the  idea,  and 
took  what  they  could  get  without  listening  too  carefully  to  tiie 
hoarse  protests  of  the  back  streets ! 

Under  one  of  the  electric  lamp-posts  on  the  Town  Hall 
Square  a  man  was  standing  selling  papers.    He  held  one  out  to 


J 


DAYBREAK  457 

Pelle»  saying:  **A  halfpenny  if  you  can  afford  it,  if  not  yon 
can  have  it  for  nothing!'^  He  was  pale,  with  dark  shadows 
under  his  eyes,  and  he  had  a  dark  beard.  He  looked  as  if  he 
were  suffering  from  some  internal  complaint  which  was  slowly 
consuming  him.  Pelle  looked  at  him,  and  saw  to  his  surprise 
that  it  was  Peter  Dreyer,  his  comrade  of  long  ago  I 

*T)o  you  go  about  selling  newspapers?''  he  exclaimed  in  as- 
tonishment, holding  out  his  hand. 

Peter  Dreyer  quietly  returned  his  greeting.  He  had  the 
same  heavy,  introspective  look  that  he  had  had  when  Pelle  met 
him  in  the  garret  in  Jager  Street,  but  looked  even  more  per- 
plexed. 

**Tes,  Pve  become  a  newspaper  man,*'  he  said,  *T)ut  only  after 
working  hours.  Ifs  a  little  paper  that  I  write  and  print  myself. 
It  may  perhaps  do  you  good  to  read  it'^ 

''Whafs  it  about?" 

**About  you  and  me." 

*T;f  s  anarchistic,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Pelle,  looking  at  the  title 
of  the  paper.    **You  were  so  strange  last  time  I  met  you." 

*^ell,  you  can  read  it  A  halfpenny  if  you  can  afford  it,  if 
not  gratis !"  he  cried,  holding  out  a  copy  to  the  passers-by.  A 
policeman  was  standing  a  little  way  off  observing  him.  He 
gradually  drew  nearer. 

**I  see  you're  under  observation  I"  said  Pelle,  drawing  his  at- 
tention to  the  policeman. 

*1*m  used  to  that.  Once  or  twice  they've  seized  my  inoffen- 
sive little  paper." 

**Then  it  can't  have  been  altogether  inoffensive  ?"  said  Pelle, 
smiling. 

**I  only  advise  people  to  Ihink  for  themselves." 

^That  advice  may  be  dangerous  enough  too,  if  if  s  followed." 

^Oh,  yes.  The  mean  thing  is  that  the  police  pursue  me 
financially.  As  soon  as  I've  got  work  with  any  master,  a  police- 
man appears  and  advises  him  to  discharge  me.  If  s  their  usual 
tactics !  They  aim  at  the  stomach,  for  thaf  s  where  they  them- 
selves have  their  heart." 

^TThen  it  must  be  very  hard  for  you  to  get  on,"  said  Pelle 
sympathetically. 

**0h,  I  get  along  somehow.    Now  and  then  they  put  me  in 


468  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

prison  for  no  lawful  reason^  and  when  a  certain  time  has  passed 
they  let  me  out  again — ^the  one  with  just  as  little  reason  as  the 
other.  TheyVe  lost  their  heads.  It  doesn't  say  much  for  mi- 
chinery  that's  exclusively  kept  going  to  look  after  us.  I've  a 
feeling  that  they'd  like  to  put  me  out  of  the  way,  if  it  could  be 
done;  but  the  country's  not  large  enough  to  let  any  one  disap- 
pear in.  But  I'm  not  going  to  play  the  hunted  animal  any 
longer.  Although  I  despise  our  laws^  which  are  only  a  mask  for 
brute  force,  I'm  very  careful  to  be  on  the  right  side;  and  if  they 
use  violence  against  me  again.  111*  not  submit  to  it.^ 

'The  conditions  are  so  unequal,"  said  Felle^  looking  seriously 
at  him. 

^o  one  need  put  up  with  more  than  he  himself  likes.  'But 
there's  something  vranting  in  us  here  at  home — our  own  ex- 
treme consequence,  self-respect;  and  so  they  treat  us  as  igno- 
miniously  as  they  please." 

They  went  on  together.  On  the  pavement  outside  one  of  the 
large  cafes  stood  an  ansemic  woman  with.a  child  upon  her  ann, 
offering  for  sale  some  miserable  stalks  which  were  supposed  to 
represent  flowers.  Peter  Dreyer  pointed  silently  from  h^  to 
the  people  in  the  cafe.    His  face  was  distorted. 

**I've  no  objection  to  people  enjoying  life,"  said  Pelle;  ''on 
the  contrary,  I'm  glad  to  see  that  there  are  some  who  are  happy. 
I  hate  the  system,  but  not  the  people,  you  see,  unless  it  were 
those  who  grudge  us  all  anything,  and  are  only  really  happy  in 
the  thought  that  others  are  in  want." 

"And  do  you  believe  there's  any  one  in  there  virho  seriously 
doesnt  grudge  others  anything?  Do  you  believe  any  of  them 
would  say :  ^'m  fortunate  enough  to  earn  twenty-five  thousand 
krones  (£1,400)  a  year  and  am  not  allowed  to  use  more  than 
five  thousand  (£300),  so  the  rest  belongs  to  the  poor'?  No, 
they're  sitting  tiiere  abusing  ilie  poor  man  while  they  drink  up 
the  surplus  of  his  existence.  The  men  abuse  the  workmen,  and 
their  wives  the  servant  girls.  Just  go  in  among  the  tables  and 
listen  I  The  poor  are  bestial,  unreliable,  ungrateful  in  spite  of 
everything  that  is  done  for  them;  they  are  ibemselves  to  blame 
for  their  misery.  It  gives  a  spice  to  the  feast  to  some  of  them, 
others  dull  their  uneasy  conscience  with  it.  And  yet  aU  they 
eat  and  drink  has  been  made  by  the  poor  man;  even  the  choicest 


DAYBBEAK  459 

dainties  haye  passed  fhrough  his  dirty  hands  and  have  a  piquant 
flavor  of  sweat  and  hnnger.  They  look  upon  it  as  a  matter  of 
course  that  it  should  be  so;  they  are  not  even  surprised  that 
nothing  is  ever  done  in  gratitude  for  kind  treatment — some- 
thing to  disagree  with  tiiem^  a  little  poison,  for  instance.  Just 
think  I  There  are  millions  of  poor  people  daily  occupied  in 
making  dainties  for  the  rich  man,  and  it  never  occurs  to  any  of 
them  to  revenge  ihemselves,  they  are  so  good-natured*  Capital 
literally  sleeps  with  its  head  in  our  lap,  and  abuses  us  in  its 
sleep ;  and  yet  we  donH  cut  its  throat !'' 

At  Victoria  Street  they  stopped.  The  policeman  had  fol- 
lowed them  and  stopped  on  the  other  side  of  the  street  when 
they  stopped.    Felle  drew  the  other's  attention  to  the  fact 

Peter  looked  across  carelessly,  ^e's  like  an  English  bloody 
hound/'  he  said  quietly — ^^'a  ferocious  mouth  and  no  brain! 
What  vexes  me  most  is  that  we  ourselves  produce  the  dogs  that 
are  to  hunt  us;  but  we  shall  soon  b^gin  to  agitate  among  the 
military.''  He  said  good-night  and  turned  toward  Enghave 
Boad,  where  he  lived. 

Ellen  met  Felle  at  the  top  of  the  street,  '^ow  did  you  get 
on  ?"  she  asked  eagerly.   *1)id  you  get  the  place  ?" 

He  quietly  explained  matters  to  her.  She  had  put  her  arm 
round  him.  ^ou  great  big  man,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  him 
with  a  happy  face.  **If  you  only  knew  how  proud  I  aui  of  you  1 
Why,  we're  rich  now,  Pelle— thirty-five  krones  (£2)  a  week! 
Aren't  you  glad  yourself?" 

^es,  I'm  glad  that  you  and  the  children  will  be  a  little 
comfortable  for  once." 

**Tes,  but  you  yourself —you  don't  seem  to  be  very  delighted, 
and  yet  if  s  a  good  place  you're  getting." 

'?t  won't  be  an  easy  place  for  me,  but  I  must  make  the  best 
of  it,"  he  answered. 

^  dont  see  why  not.  You're  to  be  on  the  side  of  the  manu- 
facturer^ but  thaf  s  always  the  way  with  that  kind  of  position ; 
and  he's  got  a  right  too  to  have  his  interests  looked  after." 

''When  they  got  in  Ellen  brought  him  his  supper,  which  had 
been  standing  on  the  stove  to  keep  warm.  Now  and  then  she 
looked  at  him  in  wonder;  there  was  something  about  him  to-day 
that  she  did  not  understand.    He  had  on  the  whole  become  a 


460  PELLE   THE   CONQXIEBOB 

little  peculiar  in  his  views  about  things  in  the  prison,  and  it 
was  not  to  be  wondered  at  She  went  to  him  and  stroked  his 
hair. 

'nToull  be  satisfied  on  your  own  account  loo,  soon,^  she  said, 
^fs  fortunate  for  us  that  he  can't  be  bothered  to  look  after 
things  himself." 

*^e*s  taken  up  with  politics,**  answered  Pelle  absentiy.  **At 
present  he's  thinking  of  getting  into  the  Town  Council  by  the 
help  of  the  working-men's  votes." 

'Then  it's  very  wise  of  him  to  take  you,"  Ellen  exclaimed 
vivaciously,  ^^ou  understand  these  matters  and  can  help  him. 
If  we  save,  we  may  perhaps  have  so  much  over  thai  we  could 
buy  the  business  from  him  some  day." 

She  looked  happy,  and  treated  him  to  a  little  petting,  now  in 
one  way  and  now  in  another.  Her  joy  increased  her  beauly,  and 
when  he  looked  at  her  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  regret  any- 
thing. She  had  sacrificed  everything  for  him,  and  he  could  do 
nothing  without  considering  her.  He  must  see  her  perfectly 
happy  once  more,  let  it  cost  what  it  might,  for  he  owed  her 
everything.  How  beautiful  she  was  in  her  unaffectedness !  She 
still  had  a  fondness  for  dressing  in  black,  and  witii  her  dark 
hair  about  her  pale  face,  she  resembled  one  of  those  Sisters  who 
have  su£Fered  much  and  do  everything  out  of  compassion. 

It  struck  him  that  he  had  never  heard  her  really  laugh ;  she 
only  smiled.  He  had  not  awakened  the  strongest  feeling  in  her 
yet,  he  had  not  succeeded  in  making  her  happy;  and  therefore, 
though  she  had  shared  his  bed  and  board,  she  had  kept  the  most 
beautiful  part  to  herself,  like  an  imapproachable  virgin.  But 
now  her  cheeks  glowed  with  happy  expectation,  and  her  eyes 
rested  upon  him  eagerly;  he  no  longer  represented  for  her  tiie 
everyday  dullness,  he  was  the  fairy-story  that  might  take  ber 
by  surprise  when  the  need  was  greatest.  He  felt  he  could  hardly 
pay  too  dearly  for  this  change.  Women  were  not  made  for  ad- 
versity and  solitude;  they  were  flowers  that  only  opened  fully 
when  happiness  kissed  them.  Ellen  might  shift  the  respoiiBi- 
bility  over  onto  his  shoulders. 

The  next  day  he  dressed  himself  carefully  to  go  out  and 
make  the  final  agreement  with  the  manufacturer.  Ellen  helped 
him  to  button  his  collar,  and  brushed  his  coat,  talking,  as  die 


DAYBREAK  461 

did  80^  with  the  lightheartedness  of  a  bird,  of  the  fmtare.  '^What 
are  we  going  to  do  now  ?  We  must  try  and  get  rid  of  this  flat 
and  move  /)ut  to  that  end  of  the  town/*  she  said,  **or  else  youll 
have  too  far  to  walk." 

*T  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we  shall  live  out  there/'  said  Pelle. 
'^e  has  three  stairs  with  one-roomed  apartments,  and  we're 
to  be  the  vice-landlord  of  them.  He  can't  manage  the  tenants 
himself."  Pelle  had  not  forgotten  it,  but  had  not  been  able  to 
bring  himself  to  tell  her  that  he  was  to  be  watch-dog. 

Ellen  looked  at  him  in  petrified  astonishment,  ^^oes  that 
go  with  the  post?"  she  gasped. 

Pelle  nodded. 

'TTou  mustn't  do  it!"  she  cried,  suddenly  seizing  him  by 
the  arms.  **Do  you  hear,  Pelle?  You  mustn't  do  it  I"  She 
was  greatly  disturbed  and  gazed  beseechingly  at  him.  ^'I  don't 
understand  you  at  all." 

He  looked  at  her  in  bewilderment  and  murmured  somet^g 
in  self-defence. 

**Don't  you  see  tiiat  he  only  wants  to  make  use  of  you?"  she 
continued  excitedly,  ^f  s  a  Judas  post  he's  offered  you,  but 
we  won't  earn  our  bread  by  turning  poor  people  into  the  street. 
I've  seen  my  own  bits  of  furniture  lying  in  the  gutter.  Oh,  if 
you'd  gone  there  I"  She  gazed  shudderingly  straight  before 
her. 

^7  can't  understand  what  you  can  have  been  thinking  about 
— ^you  who  are  generally  so  sensible,"  she  said  when  she  had  once 
more  calmed  down,  looking  reproachfully  at  him;  but  the  next 
instant  she  understood  it  all,  and  sank  down  weeping. 

^^Oh,  PeUe,  Pelle !"  she  exclaimed,  and  hid  her  face. 


vm 

Pellb  read  no  more  and  no  longer  went  to  the  libnury.  He 
had  enough  to  do  to  keep  things  going.  There  was  no  question 
now  of  trying  to  get  a  place;  winter  was  at  the  door,  and  the 
army  of  the  unemployed  grew  larger  every  day.  He  stayed  at 
home,  worked  when  tiiere  was  anything  to  do,  and  for  the  rest 
minded  the  children  for  Ellen  while  she  washed.  He  talked  to 
Lasse  Frederik  as  he  would  to  a  comrade,  but  it  was  nice  to 
have  to  look  after  the  little  ones  too.  They  were  grateful  for  it, 
and  he  discovered  that  it  gave  him  much  pleasure.  Boy  Com- 
fort he  was  very  fond  of  now,  his  only  sorrow  being  that  the  boy 
could  not  talk  yet  His  dumbness  was  always  a  silent  accu- 
sation. 

**Why  don't  you  bring  books  home?^  Ellen  would  say  when 
she  came  up  from  the  wash-house  to  look  after  them,  with  her 
arms  bare  and  tiny  drops  in  her  hair  from  the  steam  down  tiiere. 
'TTou've  plenty  of  time  now.'' 

No,  what  did  he  want  with  books?  They  did  perhaps  widen 
his  horizon  a  little,  but  what  lay  behind  it  became  so  very  much 
greater  again;  and  he  himself  only  grew  smaller  by  reading. 
It  was  impossible  in  any  case  to  obtain  any  reassuring  view  of 
the  whole.  The  world  followed  its  own  crooked  course  in  defi- 
ance of  all  wisdom.  There  was  little  pleasure  in  absorbing 
knowledge  about  things  that  one  could  not  remedy ;  poor  people 
had  better  be  duU. 

He  and  Morten  had  just  been  to  Madam  Johnsen's  funeral 
She  had  not  succeeded  in  seeing  Jutland.  Out  of  a  whole  life 
of  toil  there  had  never  been  ten  krones  (10s.)  over  for  a  ticket 
home;  and  the  trains  ran  day  after  day  with  hundreds  of  empty 
places.  With  chilling  punctuality  they  whirled  away  from  sta- 
tion to  station.  Heaven  knows  how  many  thousand  empty  seats 
the  trains  had  run  with  to  Jutland  during  the  years  in  whidi 
the  old  woman  longed  to  see  her  home  t   And  if  she  had  trudged 

462 


DAYBREAK  468 

to  fhe  railway-station  and  got  into  the  train,  remorseless  hands 
wonld  have  removed  her  at  the  first  station.  What  had  she  to 
do  with  Jutland?  She  longed  to  go  there,  it  was  true,  but  she 
had  no  money  I 

Was  it  malice  or  heartless  indifference?  A  more  fiendish 
sport  can  at  any  rate  hardly  be  imagined  than  this  running  with 
empty  places.  It  was  they  that  made  the  journey  so  terribly 
vivid — ^as  though  the  devil  himself  were  harnessed  to  the  train 
and,  panting  with  wantonness,  dragging  it  along  through  the 
country  to  places  that  people  were  longing  to  see.  It  must  be 
dreadful  to  be  the  guard  and  call  the  names  of  the  stations  in 
to  those  seats  for  the  people  left  behind  I 

And  Sister  walked  about  the  fioor  so  pale  and  thin !  There 
was  no  strength  in  her  fair  hair,  and  when  she  was  excited,  her 
breath  whistled  in  her  windpipe  with  that  painful  sound  that 
was  practically  inseparable  from  the  children  of  the  poor  neigh- 
borhoods. It  was  always  the  vitiated  air  of  the  back-yards  that 
had  something  to  say  now — depressing,  like  almost  everything 
his  understanding  mastered.  All  she  wanted  was  sunshine,  and 
all  the  summer  it  had  been  poured  down  in  open-handed  gener- 
osity, only  it  went  over  the  heads  of  poor  people  like  everything 
else.  It  had  been  a  splendid  year  for  strawberries,  but  the  large 
gardeners  had  decided  to  let  half  of  them  rot  on  their  stalks  in 
order  to  keep  up  the  prices  and  save  the  money  spent  on  picking 
them.  And  here  were  the  children  hungering  for  fruit,  and 
ailing  for  want  of  it  I  Why?  No,  there  was  no  possible  answer 
to  be  given  to  that  question. 

And  again — everywhere  the  same !  Whenever  he  thought  of 
some  social  institution  or  other,  the  same  melancholy  spectacle 
presented  itself — an  enormous  rolling  stock,  only  meant  for  a 
few,  and  to  a  great  extent  running  empty;  and  from  the  empty 
places  accusing  eyes  gazed  out^  sick  and  sad  with  hunger  and 
want  and  disappointed  hope.  If  one  had  once  seen  them,  it  was 
impossible  to  close  one's  eyes  to  them  again. 

Sometimes  his  imagination  took  another  direction,  and  he 
found  himself  planning,  for  instance,  kingdoms  in  which  trains 
were  used  according  to  the  need  for  them,  and  not  according  to 
the  purse,  where  the  food  was  eaten  by  those  who  were  hungry, 
and  the  only  poor  people  were  those  who  grudged  others  things* 


464  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

But  he  pulled  himself  up  there;  it  was  too  idiotic !  A  voice  from 
the  unseen  had  called  him  and  his  out  into  the  day,  and  then 
nothing  had  happened  I    It  had  only  been  to  fool  them. 

Brun  often  came  down  to  see  him.  The  old  librarian  missed 
his  young  friend. 

''Why  do  you  never  come  in  to  us  nowP*  he  asked. 

''What  should  I  do  there?'*  answered  Pelle  shortly.  "The 
poor  man  has  no  use  for  knowledge;  he's  everlastingly  damned." 

He  had  broken  with  all  that  and  did  not  care  either  about 
the  librarian's  visits.  It  was  best  for  every  one  to  look  after 
himself;  the  great  were  no  company  for  such  as  he.  He  made 
no  attempt  to  conceal  his  ill  humor,  but  Brun  took  no  notice. 
The  latter  had  moved  out  into  Prederiksberg  Avenue  in  Octo- 
ber, and  dropped  in  almost  every  afternoon  on  his  way  home 
from  the  library.  The  children  took  care  to  be  down  tiiere  at 
that  time,  for  he  always  brought  something  for  them. 

Neither  Pelle  nor  Ellen  demanded  much  of  life  now.  They 
had  settled  down  in  resignation  side  by  side  like  a  pair  of  cart- 
horses that  were  accustomed  to  share  manger  and  toiL  It 
would  have  been  a  great  thing  now  to  have  done  with  that  oon- 
founded  loan,  so  that  they  need  not  go  about  with  their  lives  in 
their  hands  continually;  but  even  that  was  requiring  too  much  I 
All  that  could  be  scraped  together  went  every  month  to  the 
money-lender,  and  they  were  no  nearer  the  end.  On  the  one 
hundred  and  eighty  krones  (£10)  that  Pelle  had  received  they 
had  now  in  all  paid  off  one  hundred  and  twenty  (£7),  and  yet 
they  still  owed  two  hundred  and  forty  (more  than  £13).  It 
was  the  "punishment  interesf*  that  made  it  mount  up  when- 
ever they  came  only  a  day  or  two  too  late  with  the  instalments 
or  whatever  it  might  be.  In  any  case  it  was  an  endless  screw 
that  would  go  on  all  their  life  pumping  out  whatever  they  could 
scrape  together  into  the  money-lender's  pocket. 

But  now  Pelle  meant  to  put  an  end  to  this.  He  had  not 
paid  the  last  instalment  and  meant  to  pay  no  more,  but  let 
things  go  as  they  liked.  "Tou  ought  to  borrow  of  Herr  Brun 
and  pay  off  that  money-lender,"  said  Ellen,  "or  else  heTl  only 
come  down  on  us  and  take  our  furniture."  But  Pelle  was  ob- 
stinate and  would  not  listen  to  reason.  The  consciousness  that 
a  parasite  had  fastened  upon  him  and  sucked  him  dry  in  spite 


DAYBREAK  465 

of  all  his  resistance^  made  him  angry.    He  would  like  to  see 
them  touching  his  things  I 

When  the  money-lender  came  to  fetch  his  instalment,  Pelle 
shut  the  door  in  his  face.  For  the  rest  he  took  everything  with 
the  calmness  of  resignation;  but  when  the  subject  cropped  up, 
he  fired  up  and  did  not  know  what  he  said.  Ellen  had  to  keep 
silence  and  let  his  mood  work  itself  out. 

One  afternoon  he  sat  working  at  the  basement  window.  The 
librarian  was  sitting  on  the  chair  by  the  door,  with  a  child  on 
each  knee,  feeding  them  with  dates.  Pelle  was  taking  no  no- 
tice, but  bent  over  his  work  with  the  expression  of  a  madman 
who  is  afraid  of  being  spoken  to.  His  work  did  not  interest  him 
as  it  had  formerly  done,  and  progressed  slowly;  a  disturbing 
element  had  entered,  and  whenever  he  could  not  instantly  find 
a  tool,  he  grew  angry  and  threw  the  things  about. 

Brun  sat  watching  him  anxiously,  though  apparently  taken 
up  with  the  children.  A  pitying  expression  would  have  made 
Pelle  furious.  Brun  guessed  that  there  was  some  money 
trouble,  but  dared  not  offer  his  assistance;  every  time  he  tried 
to  begin  a  conversation  Pelle  repelled  him  with  a  cunning  look 
which  said :  'TTou're  seeking  for  an  opportunity  to  come  with 
your  money,  but  you  won't  get  itl'*  Something  or  other  had 
gone  wrong  with  him,  but  it  would  all  come  right  in  the  end. 

A  cab  stopped  outside  the  door,  and  three  men  stepped  out 
and  went  into  the  house.  A  little  while  after  Ellen  burst  into 
the  workshop.  'Telle!*'  she  cried,  without  noticing  Brun, 
'*they\e  come  to  take  away  our  things  !'*  She  broke  into  a  fit 
of  weeping,  and  seeing  their  mother  crying,  the  children  began 
to  cry  too. 

Pelle  rose  and  seized  a  hammer.  '^11  soon  get  them  out  I'' 
he  said  between  his  teeth  in  a  low  tone  as  he  moved  toward  the 
door.  He  did  not  hurry,  but  went  with  lowered  head,  not  look- 
ing at  any  one. 

Brun  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  stopped  him. 

'TTou  forget  that  there's  something  called  Prison !"  he  said 
with  peculiar  emphasis. 

Pelle  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment,  and  for  a  moment  it 
looked  as  if  he  were  going  to  strike  the  old  man ;  then  the  ham- 
mer dropped  from  his  hand  and  he  broke  down. 


IX 

Now  and  then  a  comrade  from  the  good  old  days  would 
come  up  and  want  Pelle  to  go  with  him  to  a  meeting.  Old 
fighting  memories  wakened  within  him.  Perhaps  it  was  there 
the  whole  point  lay.  He  threw  off  his  leather  apron  and  went. 
Ellen's  eyes  followed  him  to  the  door^  wondering  that  he  could 
still  wish  to  have  anything  to  do  with  that  after  what  he  had 
got  out  of  it 

But  it  was  not  there  after  all  I  He  remembered  the  tremen- 
dous ferment  in  men's  minds  during  the  Movement,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  excitement  had  died  down.  People  only 
came  forward  before  the  elections,  otherwise  they  went  about 
their  own  business  as  if  there  had  never  been  any  rallying  idea. 
They  were  all  organized,  but  there  was  nothing  new  and  strong 
in  that  fact;  they  were  bom — so  to  speak — ^in  organization,  and 
connected  nothing  great  and  elevating  with  it.  His  old  asso- 
ciates had  cooled  down  remarkably;  they  must  have  discovered 
that  success  was  neither  so  romantic  nor  so  easy  as  they  had 
thought  They  had  no  longer  simply  to  open  the  gate  into  the 
land  of  success  and  stream  through  it;  there  was  a  long  and 
difficult  road  before  that  So  they  each  arranged  his  own  mat- 
ters, and  disposed  of  the  doubtful  future  for  small  present  ad- 
vantages which  were  immediately  swallowed  up  by  the  existing 
conditions. 

The  Movement  had  not  reached  to  the  bottom.  There  was 
an  accusation  against  himself  in  this  fact;  it  had  not  been  de- 
signed with  sufficient  breadth.  Even  at  that  time  it  had  passed 
over  the  heads  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  ^^Ark,"  and  now  a  large 
proletariat  was  left  with  their  own  expectations  of  the  future. 
The  good  old  class  of  the  common  people  had  split  up  into  a 

4« 


DAYBBBAK  467 

class  of  petty  tradesmen — ^who  seemed  to  be  occupied  solely  in 
establishing  themselves — and  this  proletariat 

But  there  was  nothing  new  in  this.  One  stratum  moved  up 
and  revealed  a  new  one  below;  it  had  always  been  thus  in  his- 
tory. Was  it  then  everlastingly  determined  that  at  the  bottom 
of  existence  there  should  always  be  the  same  innumerable  crowd 
of  those  who  were  thrust  down,  who  bore  the  burden  of  the 
whole,  the  great  hunger  reserve?  Was  it  only  possible  to  be 
happy  when  one  knew  how  to  push  the  difficulties  down,  just  as 
one  might  push  the  folds  of  a  material  until  at  last  they  were 
heaped  up  in  one  place?  It  was  the  old  question  over  again. 
Formerly  he  had  had  his  clear  faith  with  which  to  beat  down 
doubt,  but  now  he  could  not  be  content  with  a  blind  hope;  he 
required  to  be  shown  an  expedient.  If  the  Movement  had  failed 
through  having  been  begun  crookedly,  the  causes  with  which  one 
had  to  do  were  practical  causes,  and  it  was  possible  to  do  the 
whole  thing  over  again. 

There  were  also  others  engaged  in  taking  the  whole  thing  up 
from  the  bottom,  and  through  Peter  Dreyer  he  came  into  con- 
tact with  young  men  of  an  entirely  new  type.  They  had  emerged 
from  the  Movement,  shot  up  surprisingly  out  of  its  sediment, 
and  now  made  new  ambitious  claims  upon  life.  By  imknown 
paths  they  had  reached  the  same  point  as  he  himself  had  done, 
and  demanded  first  and  foremost  to  be  human  beings.  The 
sacredness  of  the  ego  filled  them,  and  made  them  rebel  at  all 
yokes;  they  began  from  within  by  shaking  them  ofF,  did  not 
smoke  or  drink,  would  be  slaves  to  nothing.  They  kept  out  of 
the  Movement  and  had  their  own  places  of  meeting  out  about 
the  South  Boulevard,  where  they  read  and  discussed  new  social 
forms.  They  were  intelligent,  well-paid  working-men,  who  per- 
sistently shared  the  conditions  of  the  proletariat;  fanatics  who 
gave  away  their  week's  wages  if  they  met  a  man  who  was  poorer 
than  themselves;  hot-headed  enthusiasts  who  awaited  revolution* 
Several  of  them  had  been  in  prison  for  agitating  against  the 
social  order.  There  were  also  country  people  among  them — 
sons  of  the  men  who  stood  in  the  ditches  and  peat-pits  out 
there.    ^TThe  little  man's  children,'*  Morten  called  them. 

These  were  the  offspring  of  those  who  had  made  the  Move- 
ment; that  was  how  it  shovdd  go  on.    By  being  contented  they 


468  PELLE  THE   CONQUEKOR 

kept  themselves  free  from  the  ensnaring  expedients  of  capitalism, 
they  despised  the  petty  tradesman's  inclination  for  comfort^  and 
were  always  ready  for  action.  In  them  the  departure  was  at  any 
rate  a  fact  I 

They  wanted  to  get  hold  of  Pelle.  ''Come  over  to  ns  !**  Peter 
Dreyer  often  said. 

Pelle,  however^  was  not  easily  enticed  out;  he  had  his  home 
where  he  hid  himself  like  a  snail  in  its  shelL  He  had  the  re- 
sponsibility for  this  little  world  of  five  people,  and  he  had  not 
even  succeeded  in  securing  it.  His  strength  and  industry  were 
not  enough  even  to  keep  one  little  home  above  water;  a  bene- 
factor was  needed  for  that!  It  was  not  the  time  to  tend 
jealously  one's  own  honor  when  wife  and  children  would  be  the 
sufferers;  and  now  that  it  was  all  arranged  he  felt  deeply  grate- 
ful to  the  old  librarian.  It  was  nevertheless  a  disgracdhd  fact 
which  did  not  encourage  him  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
affairs  of  others. 

The  violent  language  used  by  the  young  men  frightened  him 
too.  He  had  rebelled  against  the  old  conditions  just  as  they 
had  done,  but  he  met  with  different  experiences.  From  the  time 
he  could  crawl  he  had  struggled  to  accommodate  himself  to  the 
great  connection  of  things ;  even  the  life  of  the  prison  had  not 
placed  him  outside  it,  but  had  only  xmited  him  the  more  closely 
with  the  whole.  He  had  no  inclination  to  cut  the  knot,  but  de- 
manded that  it  should  be  untied. 

'TTouVe  no  good,*'  said  Morten  and  the  others  when  they 
tried  to  rouse  him,  '*for  you  can't  hate."  No,  the  cold  in  his  1 
mind  was  like  the  night-frost;  it  melted  at  the  first  sunbeam.  ' 
When  he  looked  back  there  were  redeeming  ties  that  held  the 
whole  together  in  spite  of  all  the  evil;  and  now  the  old  librarian 
had  brought  him  close  up  to  the  good  in  the  other  side  of  the 
cleft  too.  He  had  settled  down  to  his  shoemaking  again  and 
refused  to  be  roused  by  the  others'  impatience ;  but  he  looked  as 
if  he  had  an  eternity  in  which  to  unravel  his  affairs. 

Sister  was  often  down  with  him  and  filled  the  workshop  with 
her  chatter.  At  about  eight,  when  it  began  to  grow  light,  he 
heard  her  staggering  step  on  the  stair,  and  she  remained  with 
him  until  Ellen  took  her  up  in  the  evening  by  main  force  to  put 
her  to  bed.    She  dragged  all  the  tools  together  and  piled  than 


DAYBBEAK  469 

up  in  front  of  Pelle  on  fhe  l)ench  so  that  he  could  hardly  move^ 
and  called  it  helping.  Then  she  rested^  standing  with  her 
hands  upon  the  edge  of  the  bench  and  talking  to  him.  '^Sister's 
clever!**  she  said  appreciatively,  pointing  with  satisfaction  to 
her  work.  *T5ig  girl  !*'  And  if  he  did  not  answer  she  repeated 
it  and  did  not  leave  off  until  he  had  praised  her. 

*Tres,  you're  very  clever!**  he  said,  *T)ut  can  you  put  the 
things  back  in  their  places?** 

The  child  shook  her  head.  **Sister*s  tired,**  she  declared 
with  decision,  and  immediately  after  brought  another  tool  and 
pushed  it  slowly  «p  onto  the  heap  while  she  kept  her  eyes  upon 
his  face  to  see  whether  she  might  do  it.  "Sister's  helping  !**  she 
repeated  in  explanation ;  but  Pelle  pretended  not  to  hear. 

For  a  time  she  was  quiet,  but  then  came  to  him  with  her 
pinafore  full  of  old  boots  and  shoes  that  she  had  pulled  out 
from  behind  the  stove.  He  tried  to  look  stem,  but  had  to  bend 
down  over  his  work.  It  made  the  little  girl  feel  xmcertain.  She 
emptied  her  pinafore  onto  the  platform,  and  sitting  on  her  heels 
witii  her  hands  on  her  little  knees,  she  tried  to  see  what  his  ex- 
pression was.  It  was  not  satisfactory,  so  she  got  up  and,  putting 
her  hands  on  his  knee,  said,  with  an  ingratiating  look  into  his 
face:  'TTou're  so  clever,  father!  You  can  do  everything! 
You*re  the  cleverest  in  the  whole  world!**  And  after  a  little 
pause — ^^'W^'re  both  clever,  aren*t  we,  father?** 

**0h,  that*s  it,  is  it!**  exclaimed  Pelle.  **One  of  us  is  very 
conceited  at  any  rate  !** 

*T!t*s  not  me  !**  answered  the  child  confidently,  shaking  her 
head. 

^TTou  seem  to  be  very  happy  together,**  said  Ellen  when  she 
came  down  with  Boy  Comfort  on  her  arm  to  fetch  Anna.  The 
child  did  not  want  to  go  up  witii  her,  and  pushed  round  into 
the  comer  behind  Pelle*s  chair;  and  Boy  Comfort  struggled  to 
be  put  down  onto  the  floor  to  play  with  the  lasts.  ''Well,  then,** 
said  Ellen,  sitting  down,  *Ve*ll  all  stay  here  together.** 

She  looked  quiet  and  resigned ;  her  defeat  had  told  upon  her. 
She  no  longer  spoke  of  the  future,  but  was  glad  that  they  had 
escaped  from  the  clutches  of  the  money-lender;  the  thought  of 
it  filled  her  with  a  quiet  but  not  altogether  unspoiled  happiness. 
She  no  longer  dreamed  of  anything  better,  but  was  grateful  for 


470  PBLLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

what  she  possessed ;  and  it  seemed  to  Pelle  that  something  had 
died  within  her  together  with  the  dissatisfaction..  It  was  as 
though  she  had  at  last  given  everything  she  had;  her  resigna- 
tion to  the  gray  everyday  life  made  her  doll  and  ordinary.  ^She 
needs  sunshine/'  he  thought 

And  again  his  thoughts  wandered  in  their  search  for  a  way 
out  into  the  future — ^his  one  idea — ^in  the  same  track  that  they 
had  followed  a  hundred  times  before.  He  did  not  even  enter 
it  fully^  but  merely  recognized  that  the  problem  was  being  worn 
threadbare.  In  his  trade  there  was  no  compromise;  there  was 
only  room  for  extortioners  and  eztortionized,  and  he  was  not 
suited  for  either  part.  When  he  took  up  other  possibilities^  how- 
ever, his  thoughts  returned  of  themselves  to  his  work,  like  a 
roving  dog  that  always  comes  back  and  snuffs  at  the  same  scent 
There  was  something  in  him  that  with  fatalistic  obstinacy  made 
him  one  with  his  trade,  in  spite  of  its  hopelessness;  he  had 
staked  everything  there,  and  there  the  question  should  be  solved. 
Behind  the  fatalism  of  the  common  people  lies  the  recognitioai 
that  there  is  plan  and  perspective  in  their  life  too;  such  and 
such  a  thing  is  so  because  it  must  be  so.  And  this  recognition 
Pelle  had  no  reason  to  do  away  with. 

He  grew  confused  with  the  continual  dwelling  of  his  thoughts 
on  the  same  subject,  but  it  seemed  to  possess  him,  was  with 
him  while  he  slept,  and  seized  him  as  soon  as  he  awoke.  There 
was  an  old  dream  that  persistently  haunted  him  at  this  time — a 
forgotten  youthful  idea  from  his  earliest  participation  in  the 
rising,  the  plan  for  a  common  workshop  that  would  make  the 
court  shoemaker  superfluous.  The  plan  had  been  laid  aside  at 
the  time  as  impossible,  but  now  he  took  it  up  again  and  went 
over  it  step  by  step.  He  could  easily  find  some  capable,  reliable 
fellow-workmen  who  would  stand  by  him  through  thick  and 
thin  with  regard  to  work  and  profite;  and  there  would  be  no 
difficulty  about  discipline,  for  during  the  past  years  the  work- 
men had  learned  to  subordinate  themselves  to  their  own  people. 
Here  was  a  way  for  the  small  man  to  assert  himself  wiiUn  his 
trade  and  join  the  development;  what  arm  was  not  able  to  do 
could  be  done  by  several  joining  together,  namely,  turn  the 
modem  technics  to  account  and  divide  the  work  into  sections. 
He  arranged  it  all  most  carefully,  and  went  over  it  again  and 


DAYBBEAE  471 

again  to  make  sure  that  every  detail  was  correct  When  he 
slept  he  dreamed  of  his  system  of  profit-sharings  and  then  it  was 
a  fact.  He  stood  working  in  a  bright  room  among  comrades; 
there  was  no  master  and  no  servant^  the  machinery  whirred^  and 
the  workmen  sang  and  whistled  while  they  minded  it.  Their 
hours  of  labor  were  shori^  and  they  all  had  happy  homes  waiting 
for  them. 

It  was  hard  to  wake  np  and  know  the  realiiy.  Alas !  all  the 
cleverest  and  most  indnstrions  hands  in  the  world  had  no  influ- 
ence in  their  several  trades — could  not  so  much  as  sew  a  single 
stitch — ^imtil  capital  started  them.  If  that  refused  its  support^ 
they  could  do  nothing  at  all,  but  were  cut  off,  as  it  were,  at 
once. 

Machinery  cost  money.  Pelle  could  get  the  latter  from  Brun, 
the  old  man  having  often  enough  offered  him  capital  to  start 
something  or  other;  but  he  already  owed  him  money,  and  cap- 
ital might  run  his  undertaking  down.  It  was  at  its  post,  and 
allowed  no  activity  of  that  kind  beside  it.  He  was  seized  wiili 
uncertainty;  he  dared  not  venture  the  stakes. 

The  old  philosopher  came  almost  daily.  Pelle  had  become 
a  part  of  his  life,  and  he  watched  his  young  friend's  condition 
with  anxiety.  Was  it  the  prison  life — or  was  it  perhaps  the 
books — ^that  had  transformed  this  young  man,  who  had  once 
gone  ahead  with  tempestuous  recklessness,  into  a  hesitating 
doubter  who  could  not  come  to  a  decision  ?  Personality  was  of 
doubtful  value  when  it  grew  at  the  expense  of  energy.  It  had 
been  the  old  man's  hope  that  it  would  have  developed  greater 
energy  through  being  replanted  in  fresh,  untouched  soil,  and 
he  tried  to  rouse  Pelle  out  of  his  lethargy. 

Pelle  gave  an  impatient  jerk.  They  were  poking  him  up  on 
all  sides,  wanting  him  to  come  to  a  decision,  and  he  could  not 
see  his  way  to  it  Of  course  he  was  half  asleep;  he  knew  it 
himself.  He  felt  that  he  wanted  rest;  his  entity  was  working 
for  him  out  there  in  the  uncertainiy. 

^T.  dont  know  anything,"  he  said,  half  irritated,  ^so  what 
can  be  the  use?  I  thought  books  would  lead  me  to  a  place  from 
which  I  could  bring  everything  together ;  but  now  I'm  all  abroad. 
I  know  too  much  to  dash  on  blindly,  and  too  little  to  find  the 
pivot  on  which  the  whole  thing  turns.    It  doesn't  matter  what 


472  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

I  touch,  it  resolyes  itself  into  something  for  and  sometiiing 
against"    He  laughed  in  desperation. 

One  day  Brun  brought  him  a  book,  ^This  book/'  he  said 
with  a  peculiar  smile,  ^%as  satisfied  many  who  were  seeking  for 
the  truth.  Let's  see  whether  it  can  satisfy  you  too!''  It  was 
Darwin's  '^Origin  of  Species." 

Pelle  read  as  in  a  mist.  The  point  lay  here — ^the  whole 
thing  powerfully  put  into  one  sentence!  His  brain  was  in  a 
ferment,  he  could  not  lay  the*book  down,  but  went  on  reading 
all  night,  bewitched  and  horrified  at  this  merciless  view.  When 
Ellen  in  surprise  came  down  with  his  morning  coffee,  he  had 
finished  the  book.  He  made  no  reply  to  her  gentle  reproaches, 
but  drank  the  coffee  in  silence,  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out  into 
the  deserted  streets  to  cool  his  burning  brow. 

It  was  very  early  and  the  working-men  had  not  yet  turned 
out;  at  the  morning  coffee-rooms  the  shutters  were  just  being 
taken  down;  warmly-clad  tram-men  were  tramping  through  the 
streets  in  their  wooden-soled  boots;  slipshod,  tired  women  ran 
stumbling  along  to  their  early  jobs,  shivering  with  cold  and 
weary  of  life,  weary  before  they  had  begun  their  day.  Here 
and  there  a  belated  woman  toiled  along  the  street  carrying  a 
clothes-basket,  a  mother  taking  her  baby  to  the  crSche  before  she 
went  to  her  work. 

Suddenly  the  feeling  of  rebellion  came  over  Pelle,  hot,  al- 
most suffocating  him.  This  cruelly  cold  doctrine  of  the  right 
of  the  strong,  which  gave  him  the  choice  between  becoming 
brutal  or  going  to  the  dogs — ^this  was  the  key  to  an  imderstand- 
ing  of  life?  It  pronounced  a  sentence  of  death  upon  him  and 
his  fellows,  upon  the  entire  world  of  the  poor.  Prom  this  point 
of  view,  the  existing  conditions  were  the  only  ones  possible — 
they  were  simply  ideal ;  the  sweater  and  the  money-lender,  whom 
he  hated,  were  in  the  most  harmonious  agreement  with  the  fun- 
damental laws  of  life!  And  thfe  terrible  thing  was  that  from 
this  standpoint  the  social  fabric  was  clearly  illuminated:  he 
coidd  not  deny  it.  He  who  best  learned  to  accommodate  him- 
self to  the  existing  state  of  things,  conquered;  no  matter  how 
vile  the  existing  state  of  things  might  be. 

The  book  threw  at  once  a  dazzling  light  upon  society,  but 
where  was  his  own  class  in  this  doctrine — all  the  poor?    They 


DATBEEAK  478 

were  not  taken  into  acconnti  Society  was  thns  in  reality  only 
those  in  possession,  and  here  he  had  their  religion,  the  moral 
support  for  the  nncompromising  utilization.  It  had  always  been 
difficult  to  understand  how  men  could  misuse  others;  but  here 
it  was  a  sacred  duty  to  give  stones  for  bread.  The  greatest  op- 
pressor was  in  reality  nearest  to  life's  holy,  maternal  heart ;  for 
he  was  appointed  to  carry  on  the  development 

The  poor  had  no  share  in  this  doctrine.  When  a  bad  work- 
man was  in  difficulties,  the  others  did  not  press  him  until  he  had 
to  go  down,  not  even  when  he  himself  was  to  blame  for  his  lack 
of  means.  The  poor  did  not  let  the  weak  fall,  but  took  him 
imder  their  wing.  They  placed  themselves  outside  the  pale  of 
the  law  and  gave  themselves  no  chance;  the  race  could  not  be 
won  with  &  wounded  comrade  on  one's  back.  But  in  this  fact 
there  lay  the  admission  that  they  did  not  belong  to  the  existing 
order  of  things,  but  had  the  right  to  demand  their  own  time  of 
happiness.  A  new  age  must  come,  in  which  all  that  was  needed 
in  order  that  they  might  share  in  it — ^kindness  of  heart,  soli- 
darity— ^was  predominant.  Thus  even  the  great  union  he  had 
helped  to  effect  pointed  in  the  right  direction.  It  had  been  the 
opposite  of  one  against  all — ^it  had  built  upon  the  law  of  reel- 
prodiy. 

And  the  poor  man  was  not  a  miserable  wretch,  condemned 
by  the  development  to  be  ruined,  a  visionary,  who,  as  a  conse- 
quence of  an  empty  stomach,  dreamed  of  a  Utopia.  Pelle  had 
passed  his  childhood  in  the  country  and  gone  about  with  the  rest 
of  creation  in  all  kinds  of  weather.  He  had  seen  the  small 
singing-birds  throw  themselves  in  whole  clouds  at  the  hawk 
when  it  had  seized  one  of  tiieir  number,  and  pursue  it  imtil  it 
dropped  its  prey  in  confusion.  When  he  caught  an  ant  in  a 
split  straw,  the  other  ants  flocked  to  the  straw  and  gnawed  their 
comrade  out :  they  could  not  be  frightened  away.  If  he  touched 
them,  they  squirted  their  poison  against  his  hand  and  went  on 
working.  Their  courage  amused  him,  the  sprinklings  of  poison 
were  so  tiny  that  he  could  not  see  them ;  but  if  he  quickly  raised 
his  hand  to  his  nose,  he  detected  a  sharp  acid  smell.  Why  did 
they  not  leave  their  comrade  in  his  dilemma,  when  there  were 
so  many  of  them  and  they  were  so  busy?  They  did  not  even 
stop  to  have  a  meal  until  they  had  liberated  him« 


474  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

The  poor  ihan  must  stick  to  the  xmion  idea;  he  had  got  hoU 
of  the  right  thing  this  time  I  And  now  all  at  once  PeUe  knew 
which  way  they  ought  to  go.  If  they  were  ontside  the  existing 
conditions  and  their  laws,  why  not  arrange  their  own  world 
upon  the  laws  that  were  theirs?  Through  the  organisations 
they  had  been  educated  in  self-government;  it  was  about  time 
that  they  took  charge  of  their  own  existence. 

The  young  revolutionaries  kept  clear  of  the  power  of  money 
by  going  without  things,  but  that  was  not  the  way.  Capital 
always  preached  contentment  to  the  poor;  he  would  go  the  other 
way,  and  conquer  production  by  a  great  flanking  movement. 

He  was  not  afraid  now  of  using  the  librarian's  money.  All 
doubt  had  been  chased  away.  He  was  perfectly  clear  and  saw 
in  broad  outlines  a  world-wide,  peaceful  revolution  which  was 
to  subvert  all  existing  values.  Pelle  knew  that  poverty  is  not 
confined  to  any  country.  He  had  once  before  brought  forward 
an  invincible  idea.  His  system  of  profit-sharing  must  be  the 
starting-point  for  a  world-fight  between  Labor  and  Capital  1 


X 

Two  days  later  Pelle  and  the  librarian  went  to  Frederiksborg 
Street  to  look  at  a  business  that  was  to  be  disposed  of.  It  was 
a  small  matter  of  half  a  score  of  workmen^  with  an  electrical 
workshop  in  the  basement  and  a  shop  above.  The  whole  could 
be  had  by  taking  over  the  stock  and  machinery  at  a  valuation* 
The  rent  was  rather  high^  but  with  that  exception  the  condi- 
tions were  favorable. 

^  think  well  arrange  that  the  purchase  and  working  capi- 
tal shall  bear  interest  and  be  sunk  like  a  four  per  cent,  credit- 
association  loan^''  said  Brun. 

'If  s  cheap  money/'  answered  Pelle.  *'A  good  result  won't 
say  much  about  the  circumstances  when  we  haven't  got  the 
same  conditions  as  other  businesses." 

^ot  so  very  cheap.  At  that  price  you  can  get  as  many  as 
you  want  on  good  security;  and  I  suppose  the  workman  ought 
to  be  regarded  as  the  best  security  in  an  undertaking  thafs 
built  upon  labor/'  said  the  old  man^  smiling.  '^ThereHl  be  a 
big  fall  in  discount  when  you  come  into  power,  Pelle!  But 
the  bare  capital  costs  no  more  now  either,  when  there  are  no 
parasites  at  it ;  and  if  s  just  parasites  that  we're  going  to  fighi" 

Pelle  had  no  objection  to  the  cheap  money;  there  were  still 
plenty  of  difSculties  to  overcome.  If  they  got  on,  it  would  not 
be  long  before  private  speculation  declared  war  on  him. 

They  agreed  that  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  agents 
and  branches ;  the  business  was  to  rest  entirely  upon  itself  and 
commtmicate  directly  with  the  consumers.  What  was  made  in 
the  workshop  should  merely  cover  the  expenses  of  the  shop 
above,  the  rest  of  the  surplus  being  divided  among  the  woric- 
men. 

476 


476  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

^According  to  what  rules?''  asked  Bran,  with  a  searching 
glance  at  Pelle. 

'TEqual  1'*  he  answered  without  hesitation.  *^e  won*t  have 
anything  to  do  with  agreements.  We  made  a  great  mistake, 
when  we  began  the  Movement,  in  giving  in  to  the  agreement 
system  instead  of  doing  away  with  it  altogether.  It  has  in- 
creased the  inequality.    Every  one  that  works  has  a  right  to  live.'' 

''Do  you  think  the  capable  workman  will  submit  to  sharing 
equally  with  those  that  are  less  capable?''  asked  Brun  doubt- 
fuUy. 

*THe  must  learn  to  I"  said  Pelle  firmly.  ''How  could  he 
otherwise  maintain  that  all  work  is  of  equal  value?" 

"Is  that  your  own  opinion  ?" 

"Most  decidedly.  I  see  no  reason,  for  instance,  for  making 
any  difference  between  a  doctor  and  a  sewer-cleaner.  Ifs  im- 
possible to  say  which  of  them  is  of  the  greater  use  in  matters  of 
health;  the  point  is  that  each  shall  do  what  he  can." 

"Capital!"  exclaimed  Brun.  "Capital  1"  The  old  philos- 
opher was  in  the  best  of  spirits.  Pelle  had  considered  him  awk- 
ward and  unpractical,  and  was  astonished  to  find  that  his  views 
on  many  points  were  so  practicaL 

"It's  because  this  is  something  new,"  said  the  old  man,  rub- 
bing his  hands.  "I'd  done  with  the  old  before  I  came  into  the 
world;  there  was  nothing  that  stimulated  me;  I  was  said  to  be 
degenerated.  Tes,  indeed!  All  the  same,  the  old  bookworm's 
going  to  show  his  ancestors  that  there's  vigorous  blood  flowing 
in  his  veins  too.  We  two  have  found  the  place  from  which  the 
world  can  be  rocked,  my  dear  Pelle;  I  think  we've  found  it! 
And  now  well  set  to  work." 

There  was  enough  to  do  indeed,  but  they  were  realities  now, 
and  Pelle  had  a  pleasant  feeling  of  once  more  having  his  feet 
upon  the  ground.  This  was  something  different  from  riding 
alone  through  space  upon  his  own  thought,  always  in  danger  odF 
falling  down;  here  he  opened  up  his  road,  so  to  speak,  with  his 
hands. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  present  owner  of  the  business 
should  carry  it  on  a  little  longer,  while  Pelle  made  himself  at 
home  in  it  all,  learned  to  understand  the  machinery,  and  took 
lessons  in  book-keeping.     He  was  always  busy,  used  his  day 


DAYBREAK  477 

well  and  at  night  slept  like  a  log.  His  brain  was  no  longer  in 
a  perpetual  ferment  like  a  caldron,  for  sleep  put  out  the  fire 
beneath  it. 

The  essential  thing  was  that  they  should  be  a  party  that 
could  entirely  rely  upon  one  another,  and  Pelle  unhesitatingly 
discharged  those  of  his  comrades  who  were  not  suited  for  work 
under  new  forms,  and  admitted  others. 

The  first  man  he  applied  to  was  Peter  Dreyer.  Ellen  ad- 
vised him  not  to  do  so.  ^HTou  know  he's  on  bad  terms  with  the 
police/*  she  said.  ^TTou  may  have  difficulties  enough  without 
thaf  But  Pelle  needed  some  one  beside  him  who  was  able  to 
look  at  things  from  a  new  point  of  view,  and  quite  understood 
what  was  essential;  egoists  were  of  no  good,  and  this  must  be 
the  very  thing  for  a  man  who  had  grown  restive  at  the  old  state 
of  things. 

41  41  41  41  41 

Pelle  had  come  home  from  his  book-keeping  course  to  have 
his  dinner.  Ellen  was  out  with  Boy  Comfort,  but  she  had  left 
the  meal  ready  for  him.  It  was  more  convenient  to  eat  it  in 
the  kitchen,  so  he  sat  upon  the  kitchen  table,  reading  a  book 
on  the  keeping  of  accounts  while  he  ate. 

In  the  front  room  sat  Lasse  Frederik,  learning  his  lessons 
with  fingers  in  both  ears  in  order  to  shut  out  the  world  com- 
pletely. This  was  not  so  easy,  however,  for  Sister  had  a  loose 
tooth,  and  his  fingers  were  itching  to  get  at  it.  Every  other 
minute  he  broke  off  his  reading  to  offer  her  something  or  other 
for  leave  to  pull  it  out;  but  the  little  girl  always  made  the  same 
answer :    '^o,  father's  going  to.'* 

He  then  gave  up  setting  about  it  honorably,  and  tried  to 
take  her  unawares;  and  at  last  he  persuaded  her  to  let  him  tie 
a  piece  of  cotton  round  the  tooth  and  fasten  it  to  the  door- 
handle. "There!  Now  we've  only  got  to  bum  through  the 
cotton,"  he  said,  lighting  a  piece  of  candle,  "or  else  f atherll 
never  be  able  to  get  the  tooth  out.  It  loosens  it  tremendously  1" 
He  talked  on  about  all  kinds  of  things  to  divert  her  attention, 
like  a  conjuror,  and  then  suddenly  brought  the  candle  close  to 
her  nose,  so  that  she  quickly  drew  back.  *T»ok,  here's  the 
tooth  I"  he  cried  triumphantly,  showing  it  to  Sister,  who,  how- 
ever, screamed  at  the  top  of  her  voice. 


478  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

Pelle  heard  it  all,  but  quietly  went  on  eating.  They  would 
have  to  make  it  up  by  themselves.  It  was  not  long  before  Lasse 
Frederik  was  applying  a  plaster  to  his  exploit;  he  talked  to  her 
and  gave  her  her  toys  to  put  her  into  good  humor  again.  When 
Pelle  went  in,  they  were  both  lying  on  the  floor  with  their  heads 
under  the  bed.  They  had  thrown  the  tooth  right  into  the  wall, 
and  were  shouting  together: 

''Mouse,  mouse! 
Give  me  a  gold  tooth 
Instead  of  a  bone  tooth!** 

^Are  you  going  to  do  anything  now,  father  ?^  asked  Sister, 
running  up  to  him. 

Tes,  he  had  several  things  to  do. 

'TTou're  always  so  busy/'  she  said  sulkily.  "Are  you  going 
to  keep  on  all  your  life?'' 

Pelle's  conscience  smote  him.  *TTo,  I'm  not  very  busy,"  he 
said  quickly.  ^  can  stay  with  you  for  a  little.  What  shall 
we  do?" 

Little  Anna  brought  her  large  rag  doll,  and  began  to  drag 
chairs  into  position. 

^0,  thaf  s  so  stupid  I"  said  Lasse  Frederik.  Tell  us  about 
the  time  you  minded  the  cows,  father!  About  the  big  mad 
bull  I"  And  Pelle  told  them  stories  of  his  childhood — about  the 
bull  and  Father  Lasse,  the  farmer  of  Stone  Farm  and  TJncle 
Ealle  with  his  thirteen  children  and  his  happy  disposition.  The 
big  farm,  the  country  life,  the  stone-quarry  and  the  sea — they 
all  made  up  a  fairy-story  for  the  two  children  of  the  payement; 
the  boy  Pelle's  battle  with  the  great  oxen  for  the  supremacy, 
his  wonderful  capture  of  the  twenty-five-ore  piece— ea<;h  inci- 
dent was  more  exciting  than  the  one  before  it.  Most  exciting  of 
all  was  the  story  of  the  giant  Eric,  who  became  an  idiot  from 
a  blow.  '^That  was  in  those  days,"  said  Pelle,  nodding;  •% 
wouldn't  happen  like  that  now."^ 

'^What  a  lot  you  have  seen  1"  said  Ellen,  who  had  come  home 
while  they  were  talking,  and  was  sitting  knitting.  ^  can  hardly 
understand  how  you  managed — a  little  fellow  like  that  I  How  I 
should  like  to  have  seen  you !" 

''Father's   big!"   exclaimed    Sister   appredatively. 


DAYBBEAK  479 

Frederik  was  a  little  more  reserved.  It  was  so  tiresome  always 
to  be  outdone,  and  he  would  like  to  have  found  room  for  a 
parenthesis  about  his  own  exploits.  ^  say,  there's  a  big  load 
of  com  in  the  cabman's  gateway/'  he  said,  to  Aow  that  he  too 
understood  coimtry  life. 

''Thafs  not  com,"  said  Pelle;  *'ifs  hay— clover  hay.  Don't 
you  even  know  what  com's  like  ?" 

'We  call  it  com,"  answered  the  boy  confidently,  ''and  it  is 
com  too,  for  it  has  tiiose  tassels  at  the  ends." 

'The  ears,  you  mean!  But  those  are  on  coarse  grass  too, 
and,  besides,  com  is  descended  from  grass.  Haven't  you  ever 
really  been  into  the  country?" 

'^e  were  once  going,  and  meant  to  stay  a  whole  week,  but 
it  went  wrong  with  mother's  work.  I've  been  right  out  to  the 
Zoological  Gardens,  though." 

Pelle  suddenly  realized  how  much  the  children  must  lose  by 
living  their  life  in  the  city.  "I  wonder  if  we  shouldn't  think 
about  moving  out  of  town,"  he  said  that  evening  when  he  and 
Ellen  were  alone. 

'fif  you  think  so,"  Ellen  answered.  She  herself  had  no 
desire  to  move  into  the  country,  indeed  she  had  an  instinctive 
horror  of  it  as  a  place  to  live  in.  She  did  not  imderstand  it 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  children  either;  there  were  so 
many  children  who  got  on  capitally  in  town,  and  he  surely  did 
not  want  them  to  become  stupid  peasants  1  If  he  thought  so, 
however,  she  supposed  it  was  right;  he  was  generally  right. 

Then  it  was  certainly  time  they  gave  notice;  there  was  not 
much  more  than  a  montii  to  April  removing-day. 

On  Sundays  they  packed  the  perambulator  and  made  excur- 
sions into  the  surrounding  country,  just  as  in  the  old  days  when 
Lasse  Frederik  was  the  only  child  and  sat  in  his  carriage  like  a 
little  crown-prince.  Now  he  wheeled  the  carriage  in  which  Boy 
Comfort  sat  in  state ;  and  when  Sister  grew  tired  she  was  placed 
upon  the  apron  with  her  legs  hanging  down.  They  went  in  a 
different  direction  each  time,  and  came  to  places  that  even  Lasse 
Frederik  did  not  know.  Close  in  to  the  back  of  the  town  lay 
nice  old  orchards,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  a  low  straw-thatched 
building,  which  had  evidently  once  been  the  dwelling-house  on  a 
farm*    They  came  upon  it  quite  by  chance  from  a  side-road. 


/ 


480  PELLE   THE    CONQUEBOB 

and  discovered  that  the  town  was  busy  building  barracks  beyond 
this  little  idyl  too,  and  shutting *it  in.  When  the  sun  shone, 
they  sat  down  on  a  bank  and  ate  their  dinner;  Pelle  and  Lasse 
Frederik  vied  with  one  another  in  performing  feats  of  strength 
on  the  withered  grass;  and  Ellen  hunted  for  winter  boughs  to 
decorate  the  house  with. 

On  one  of  their  excursions  they  crossed  a  boggy  piece  of 
ground  on  which  grew  willow  copse;  behind  it  rose  cultivated 
land.  They  followed  the  field  roads  with  no  definite  aim,  and 
chanced  upon  an  uninhabited,  somewhat  dilapidated  house, 
which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  rising  ground  with  a  view  over 
Copenhagen,  and  surrounded  by  a  large,  overgrown  garden.  On 
an  old,  rotten  board  stood  the  words  ''To  let,*'  but  nothing  was 
said  as  to  where  application  was  to  be  made. 

'^That's  just  the  sort  of  house  you'd  like,'*  said  Ellen,  for 
Pelle  had  stopped. 

*T[t  would  be  nice  to  see  the  inside,'*  he  said.  '1  expect  the 
key's  to  be  got  at  the  farm  up  there." 

Lasse  Frederik  ran  up  to  the  old  farmhouse  that  lay  a  little 
farther  in  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  to  ask.  A  little  while  after  he 
came  back  accompanied  by  the  farmer  himself,  a  pale,  languid, 
youngish  man,  who  wore  a  stand-up  collar  and  w^  ^ok^g  a 
dgar. 

The  house  belonged  to  the  hill  farm,  and  had  been  built  for 
the  parents  of  the  present  owner.  The  old  people  had  had  the 
odd  idea  of  calling  it  *T)aybreak,"  and  the  name  was  painted  in 
large  letters  on  the  east  gable.  The  house  had  stood  empty 
since  they  died  some  years  ago,  and  looked  strangely  lifeless; 
the  window-panes  were  broken  and  looked  like  dead  eyes,  and 
the  floors  were  covered  with  filth. 

^0, 1  don't  like  it!"  said  Ellen. 

Pelle  showed  her,  however,  that  the  house  was  good  enough^ 
the  doors  and  windows  fitted  well,  and  the  whole  needed  onlj 
to  be  overhauled.  There  were  four  rooms  and  a  kitchen  on  the 
ground  floor,  and  some  rooms  above,  one  of  these  being  a  large 
attic  facing  south.  The  garden  was  more  than  an  acre  in  ex- 
tent, and  in  the  yard  was  an  out-house  fitted  up  for  fowls  and 
T-abbits,  the  rent  was  four  hundred  krones  (£22). 

Pelle  and  Lasse  Frederik  went  all  over  it  again  and  again. 


DATBBEAK  481 

and  made  the  most  wonderful  discoveries;  but  when  Pelle  heard 
the  price,  he  grew  serious.  **Then  we  may  as  well  give  it  up/' 
he  said. 

Ellen  did  not  answer,  but  on  the  way  home  she  reckoned  it 
out  to  herself;  she  could  see  how  disappointed  he  was.  '^t^ 
be  fifteen  krones  (17».)  more  a  month  than  we  now  pay/*  she 
suddenly  exclaimed.  '*But  supposing  we  could  get  something 
out  of  tiie  garden,  and  kept  fowls  I  Perhaps,  too,  we  might  let 
the  upper  floor  furnished.*' 

Pelle  looked  gratefully  at  her.  'TU  undertake  to  get  several 
hundred  krones*  worth  out  of  the  garden,**  he  said. 

They  were  tired  out  when  they  got  home,  for  after  all  it 
was  a  long  way  out.  'T[t*s  far  away  from  everything,**  said 
Ellen.  'Trou*d  have  to  try  to  buy  a  second-hand  bicycle.**  Pelle 
suddenly  imderstood  from  the  tone  of  her  voice  that  she  herself 
would  be  lonely  out  there. 

'We'd  better  put  it  out  of  our  thoughts,**  he  said,  "and  look 
for  a  three-roomed  fiat  in  town.  The  other  is  unpractical 
after  all.** 

When  he  returned  from  his  work  the  following  evening, 
Ellen  had  a  surprise  for  him.  '^*ve  been  out  and  taken  the 
house,'*  she  said.  '?t*s  not  so  far  from  the  tram  after  all,  and 
we  get  it  for  three  hundred  krones  (£16  lOs.)  the  first  year. 
The  man  promised  to  put  it  all  into  good  order  by  removing- 
day.    Aren't  you  glad  ?" 

'TTes,  if  only  youll  be  happy  there,"  said  Pelle,  putting  his 
arms  roxmd  her. 

The  children  were  delighted.  They  were  to  live  out  there 
in  the  bright  world  into  which  they  had  peeped,  as  a  rule,  only 
on  very  festive  occasions — ^to  wander  about  there  every  day,  and 
always  eat  the  food  they  brought  with  them  in  the  open  air. 

A  week  later  they  moved  out.  Pelle  did  not  think  they 
could  afford  to  hire  men  to  do  the  removing.  He  borrowed  a 
four-wheeled  hand-cart — ^the  same  that  had  carried  Ellen's  fur- 
niture from  Chapel  Boad — and  in  the  course  of  Saturday  even- 
ing and  Suiiday  morning  he  and  Lasse  Frederik  took  out  the 
things.  ''Queen  Theresa**  gave  Ellen  a  helping  hand  with  the 
packing.  The  last  load  was  done  very  quickly,  as  they  had  to 
be  out  of  the  town  before  church-time.    They  half  ran  with  it. 


488  PELLE  THE  CONQUBEOR 

Boy  Comfort  having  been  plaoed  in  a  tub  on  the  top  of  Uie  load. 
Bdiind  came  Ellen  with  little  Anna,  and  last  of  all  fat  ^Queen 
Theresa^  with'  some  pot  plants  that  had  to  be  taken  with  spe- 
cial care.    It  was  quite  a  procession. 

They  were  in  a  tremendous  bustle  all  day.  The  deaning 
had  been  very  badly  done  and  Ellen  and  ^Queen  Theresa'^  had 
to  do  it  all  over  again.  Well,  it  was  only  what  they  might  have 
expected  I  When  you  moved  you  always  had  to  clean  two  flats, 
the  one  you  left  and  the  one  you  went  into.  There  had  not 
been  much  done  in  the  way  of  repairs  either,  but  that  too  was 
what  one  was  accustomed  to.  Landlords  were  the  same  all  the 
world  over.  There  was  little  use  in  making  a  fuss;  they  were 
there,  and  the  agreement  was  signed.  Pelle  would  have  to  see 
to  it  by  degrees. 

By  evening  the  house  was  so  far  in  order  that  it  could 
be  slept  in.  **Now  weTl  stop  for  to-day,**  said  Ellen.  **We 
mustn't  forget  that  ifs  Sunday.**  They  carried  chairs  out  into 
the  garden  and  had  their  supper  there,  Pelle  having  laid  ,an 
old  door  upon  a  barrel  for  a  table.  Every  time  **Queen  The- 
resa** leaned  forward  with  her  elbows  on  the  table,  the  whole 
thing  threatened  to  upset,  and  then  she  screamed.  She  was  a 
pastor*s  daughter,  and  her  surroundings  now  made  her  melan- 
choly. ^  haven*t  sat  like  this  and  had  supper  out  of  doors 
since  I  ran  away  from  home  as  a  fifteen-year-old  girl,**  she  said^ 
wiping  her  eyes. 

^oor  soull**  said  EUen,  when  they  had  gone  with  her  along 
the  road  to  the  tram.  ^She*s  certainly  gone  through  a  good 
deal    She's  got  no  one  to  care  about  her  except  us.** 

^  she  really  a  pastor*s  daughter?**  asked  Pelle.  '^oncien 
of  tiiat  kind  always^  pretend  to  be  somebody  of  a  better  class 
who  has  been  unfortunate.** 

^Oh,  yes,  it*s  true  enough.  She  ran  away  from  home  be- 
cause she  couldnt  stand  it.  She  wasnt  allowed  to  laugh,  Inoct 
had  to  be  always  praying  and  thinking  about  Ood.  Her  par- 
ents have  cursed  her.'* 

They  went  for  a  little  walk  behind  the  farm  to  see  the  e?en* 
ing  sky.  Ellen  was  very  talkative,  and  already  had  a  thousand 
plans  in  her  head.  She  was  going  to  plant  a  great  many  fimit- 
bushes  and  make  a  kitdien-garden;  and  they  would  keep  a  nnm- 


DATBBEAK  483 

ber  of  fowls  and  rabbits.  Next  summer  she  wotild  have  early 
v^etables  that  could  be  sold  in  town. 

Pelle  was  only  half  attending  as  he  walked  beside  her  and 
gazed  at  the  glowing  evening  sky^  which,  with  its  long  fiery 
lines,  resembled  a  distant  prairie-fire.  There  was  quiet  happi- 
ness within  him  and  around  him.  He  was  in  a  solemn  mood, 
and  felt  as  though,  after  an  absence  of  many  years,  he  had  once 
more  entered  the  land  of  his  childhood.  There  was  a  familiar 
feeling  in  the  soft  pressure  of  the  earth  beneath  his  feet;  it  was 
like  a  caress  that  made  him  strong  and  gave  him  new  life. 
Here,  with  his  feet  on  the  soil,  he  felt  himself  invincible. 

You're  so  silent  I^  said  Ellen,  taking  his  arm  so  as  to  walk 
beside  him  upon  the  dike. 

'?  feel  as  if  you  had  just  become  my  brid^'^  he  said,  taking 
her  into  his  arms. 


y  XI 

Beun  came  in  every  morning  before  he  went  to  the  library 
to  see  how  the  work  was  progressing;  he  was  greatly  interested 
in  it,  and  began  to  look  younger.  He  was  always  urging  Pelle 
on,  and  suggesting  plans  for  extensions.  '*If  money's  wanted, 
just  let  me  know,'*  he  said.  He  longed  to  see  the  effect  of  this 
new  system,  and  was  always  asking  Pelle  whether  he  noticed 
anything.  When  he  heard  that  the  boot  and  shoe  manufac- 
turers had  held  a  meeting  to  decide  what  should  be  their  atti- 
tude to  the  undertaking,  he  laughed  and  wanted  to  turn  on 
more  steam,  quite  indifferent  to  what  it  might  cost.  The  old 
philosopher  had  become  as  impatient  as  a  child ;  an  interest  had 
come  into  his  old-man's  existence,  and  he  was  afraid  of  not 
getting  the  whole  of  it.  ^flt's  all  very  well  for  you  to  take 
your  time,''  he  said,  'T)ut  remember  that  I'm  old  and  sickly  into 
the  bargain." 

He  treated  Pelle  as  a  son,  and  generally  said  "thou"  to  him. 

Pelle  held  back.  So  much  depended  upon  the  success  of 
this  venture,  and  he  watched  it  anxiously;  it  was  as  though  he 
had  been  choseu  to  question  the  future.  Within  the  Movemait 
his  undertaking  was  followed  with  attention;  the  working- 
men's  papers  wrote  about  it,  but  awaited  results.  There  were 
opinions  for  and  against. 

He  wanted  to  give  a  good  answer,  and  decided  on  his  meas- 
ures with  much  care;  he  immediately  dismissed  such  workmen 
as  were  not  suited  to  the  plan.  It  made  bad  blood,  but  there 
was  no  help  for  that.  He  was  busy  everywhere,  and  where  he 
could  not  go  himself,  Lasse  Prederik  went,  for  the  boy  had  given 
up  his  other  occupations  and  helped  in  the  shop  and  ran  er- 
rands. Ellen  wanted  to  help  too.  ''We  can  keep  a  servant,  and 
then  I'll  learn  book-keeping  and  keep  the  accounts  and  mind 
the  shop," 

484 


DAYBREAK  486 

Pelle  would  not  agree  to  this,  however.  He  was  not  going 
to  have  her  working  for  their  maintenance  any  more.  A 
woman's  place  was  with  her  children ! 

**Nowadays  the  women  take  part  in  all  kinds  of  work/'  Ellen 
urged. 

It  did  not  matter;  he  had  his  own  opinion  on  the  sub- 
ject. It  was  enough  that  the  men  should  do  the  producing. 
Would  she  have  them  stand  on  the  pavement  and  watch  the 
women  doing  the  work  ?  It  was  very  possible  it  did  not  sound 
liberal-minded,  but  he  did  not  care.  Women  were  like  beauti- 
ful flowers,  whatever  people  said  about  their  being  man's  equal. 
They  wore  their  happiness  oflf  when  they  had  to  work  for  their 
living;  he  had  seen  enough  to  know  that. 

She  did  not  like  standing  and  looking  on  while  the  two  men 
were  so  busy,  so  she  attacked  the  garden,  and  sowed  herbs  and 
planted  cabbage  in  the  beds  that  lay  like  thick  down  quilts  upon 
the  earth;  and  when  it  happened  that  things  came  up,  she  was 
happy.  She  had  bought  a  gardening  book,  and  puzzled  her 
head  about  the  various  kinds  and  their  treatanent.  Pelle  came 
to  her  assistance  after  working  hours,  and  everything  that  he 
handled  flourished.  This  made  Ellen  a  little  angry.  She  did 
exactly  what  he  did,  but  it  was  just  as  if  the  plants  made  a 
difference  between  tiiem.  'Tve  got  the  countryman's  hand," 
he  said,  laughing. 

All  Sunday  they  were  busy.  The  whole  family  "was  in  the 
garden,  Lasse  Prederik  digging,  Pelle  pruning  the  espalier 
round  the  garden  door,  and  Ellen  tying  it  up.  The  children 
were  trying  to  help  everybody  and  were  mostly  a  hindrance. 
One  or  otiber  of  them  was  always  doing  something  wrong, 
treading  on  the  beds  or  pulling  up  the  plants.  How  extraordi- 
narily stupid  they  were !  Regular  town  children !  They  could 
not  even  understand  when  they  were  told!  Pelle  could  not 
comprehend  it,  and  sometimes  nearly  lost  patience. 

One  day  when  little  Anna  came  to  him  unsuspectingly  to 
show  him  a  flowering  branch  of  an  apple-tree  which  she  had 
broken  off,  he  was  angry  and  took  her  roughly  by  the  arm ;  but 
when  he  saw  the  frightened  expression  in  her  face,  he  remem- 
bered the  man  with  the  strange  eyes,  who  had  taught  him  in 
his  childhood  to  manage  the  cattle  without  using  anything  but 


486  PBLLE  THE   CONQUEROE 

his  hands^  and  he  was  ashamed  of  himself.  He  took  the  little 
ones  by  the  hand,  went  round  the  garden  with  them  and  told 
them  about  the  trees  and  bushes,  which  were  alive  just  like 
themselves,  and  only  wanted  to  do  all  they  could  for  the  two 
children.  The  branches  were  their  arms  and  legs,  so  they  could 
imagine  how  dreadful  it  was  to  pull  them  off.  Sister  turned 
pale  and  said  nothing,  but  Boy  Comfort,  who  at  last  had  decided 
to  open  his  mouth  and  had  become  quite  a  chatterbox,  jabbered 
away  and  stuck  out  his  little  stomach  like  a  drummer.  He  was 
a  stardy  little  fellow,  and  Ellen's  eyes  followed  him  proudly  as 
he  went  roxmd  the  garden. 

The  knowledge  that  everything  was  alive  had  a  remarkable 
effect  upon  the  two  children.  They  always  went  about  hand  in 
hand,  and  kept  carefully  to  the  paths.  All  round  them  the 
earth  was  breaking  and  curious  things  coming  up  out  of  it 
The  beans  had  a  bucket  turned  over  them  to  protect  them,  and 
the  lettuces  put  up  folded  hands  as  if  they  were  praying  for  fine 
weather.  Every  morning  when  the  children  made  their  round 
of  the  garden,  new  things  had  come  up.  '''Oook,  'ook!**  ex- 
claimed Boy  Comfort,  pointing  to  the  beds.  They  stood  at  a 
safe  distance  and  talked  to  one  another  about  the  new  wonders, 
bending  over  with  their  hands  upon  their  backs  as  if  afraid  that 
the  new  thing  would  snatch  at  their  fingers.  Sometimes  Boy 
Comfort's  chubby  hand  would  come  out  involuntarily  and  want 
to  take  hold  of  things;  but  he  withdrew  it  in  alarm  as  if  he  had 
burnt  himself,  saying  ''Owl''  and  then  the  two  children  would 
run  as  fast  as  they  could  up  to  the  house. 

For  them  the  garden  was  a  wonder-world  fdll  of  delights— 
and  full  of  terrors.  They  soon  became  familiar  with  the  plants 
in  their  own  way,  and  entered  into  a  kind  of  mystic  companion- 
ship with  them,  met  them  in  a  friendly  way  and  exchanged, 
opinions — ^like  beings  from  different  worlds,  meeting  on  the 
threshold.  There  was  always  something  mysterious  about  tfaeir 
new  friends,  which  kept  them  at  a  disiuice;  they  did  not  give 
much  information  about  themselves.  When  they  were  asked: 
'^Who  called  you?"  they  answered  quickly:  ''Mother  EUct!" 
But  if  they  were  asked  what  it  looked  like  down  in  the  earth, 
they  made  no  answer  whatever.  The  garden  continued  to  be 
an  inexhaustible  world  to  the  children,  no  matter  how  mud 


DAYBBEAK  487 

they  trotted  about  in  it.  Every  day  they  went  on  new  jonmeys 
of  discovery  in  under  elder  and  thorn  bushes;  there  were  even 
places  which  they  had  not  yet  got  at^  and  others  into  which 
they  did  not  venture  at  all.  They  went  near  to  them  many 
times  in  the  course  of  the  day^  and  peeped  over  the  gooseberry 
bushes  into  the  horrible  darkness  that  sat  in  there  like  an  evil 
being  and  had  no  name.  Out  in  the  brilliant  sunshine  on  the 
path  they  stood  and  challenged  it,  Sister  spitting  until  her  chin 
and  pinafore  were  wet,  and  Boy  Comfort  laboriously  picking  up 
stones  and  throwing  them  in.  He  was  so  fat  that  he  could  not 
bend  down,  but  had  to  squat  on  his  heels  whenever  he  wanted 
to  pick  up  anything.  And  then  suddenly  they  would  rush  away 
to  the  house  in  a  panic  of  fear. 

It  was  not  necessary  to  be  a  child  to  follow  the  life  in  the 
garden.  A  wonderful  power  of  growing  filled  everything,  and 
in  the  night  it  crackled  and  rustled  out  in  the  moonlight, 
branches  stretched  themselves  in  fresh  growths,  the  sap  broke 
through  the  old  bark  in  the  form  of  flowers  and  new  "eyes.**  It 
was  as  though  Pelle  and  Ellen's  happy  zeal  had  been  infectious; 
the  half-stifled  fruit-trees  that  had  not  borne  for  many  years 
revived  and  answered  the  gay  voices  by  blossoming  luxuriantly. 
It  was  a  race  between  human  beings  and  plants  as  to  who  should 
accomplish  the  most,  and  between  the  plants  themselves  as  to 
which  could  make  the  best  show,  ^^he  spring  is  lavishing  its 
flowers  and  green  things  upon  us,''  said  Pelle.  He  had  never 
seen  a  nest  that  was  so  beautiful  as  his ;  he  had  at  last  made  a 
home. 

It  was  pleasant  here.    Virginia  creeper  and  purple  clematis 

covered  the  whole  front  of  the  house  and  hung  down  before  the 

garden  door,  where  Ellen  liked  to  sit  with  her  work,  keeping 

an  eye  on  the  little  ones  playing  on  the  grass,  where  she  liked 

best  to  sit  with  Pelle  on  Sundays,  when  the  Copenhagen  families 

came  wandering  past  on  their  little  country  excursions.    They 

often  stopped  outside  the  hedge  and  exclaimed:    ^^Oh,  what  a 

lovely  home  I" 

m  m  ^  m  * 

The  work  in  Pelle's  workshop  began,  as  in  all  other  places, 
at  six  in  the  morning;  but  it  stopped  at  four,  so  that  those  who 
cared  about  it  could  easily  make  something  of  the  day.    Pelle 


488  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

had  reduced  the  working  hours  to  nine,  and  dared  not  venture 
any  further  for  the  present. 

Some  of  the  hands  liked  this  arrangement,  and  employed  the 
afternoon  in  going  out  with  their  wives  and  children ;  but  others 
would  rather  have  had  an  hour  longer  in  bed  in  the  morning. 
One  day  the  latter  came  and  declared  that  now  they  were  in 
the  majority  and  would  have  it  changed. 

'T  can't  agree  to  that/*  answered  Pelle.  ''Being  early 
up  is  the  workman's  privilege,  and  I'm  not  going  to  give 
it  up." 

*fBut  we've  taken  the  votes  on  it,"  they  said.  ^TThis  is  a 
democratic  institution,  isn't  it?" 

'Tve  taken  no  oath  to  the  vote,"  Pelle  answered  quietly, 
''and  in  the  meantime  I  should  advise  those  who  are  dissatis- 
fied with  the  conditions  here  to  try  somewhere  else." 

There  was  always  something  like  this  going  on,  but  he  did 
not  take  it  for  more  than  it  was  worth.  They  had  acquired 
consciousness  of  their  power,  but  most  of  them  had  not  yet 
discovered  its  aim.  They  used  it  blindly,  in  childish  pleasure 
at  seeing  it  unfold,  like  boys  in  unfurling  their  banner,  tyran- 
nized a  little  by  way  of  a  change,  and  took  their  revenge  for 
the  subjection  of  old  times  by  systematically  demanding  tiie 
opposite  to  what  they  had.  They  reeled  a  little ;  the  miracle  of 
the  voting-paper  had  gone  to  their  heads.  It  was  an  intel- 
ligible transition ;  the  feeling  of  responsibility  would  get  hold  of 
them  in  time. 

Another  day  two  of  the  most  skilful  workmen  came  and 
asked  to  have  piece-work  introduced  again.  "We  won't  stand 
toiling  to  make  money  for  our  comrades,"  they  said. 

*'Are  they  idle?"  asked  Pelle. 

"No,  but  we  work  quicker." 

"Then  they're  more  thorough  on  the  whole.  The  one  gen- 
erally balances  the  other." 

"Thaf  s  all  very  well,  but  it  doesn't  benefit  us." 

"It  benefits  the  consumers,  and^  under  the  new  conditions 
thaf  s  the  same  thing.  We  must  maintain  the  principle  that 
all  who  do  their  duty  are  equally  good;  it's  in  our  own 
interests." 

They  were  satisfied  for  the  time.     They  were  two  clever 


DAYBREAK  489 

fellows,  and  it  was  only  that  they  had  not  got  hold  of  the  new 
feature  in  the  arrangement. 

In  this  way  there  was  considerable  trouble.  The  workmen 
were  short-sighted,  and  saw  only  from  their  hands  to  their  own 
mouths.  Impatience  had  also  something  to  do  with  it  They 
had  shorter  hours  and  higher  wages,  but  had  not  as  much  to  do 
as  in  other  places.  It  was  new  of  course,  and  had  to  answer  to 
their  dreams;  but  there  would  be  no  fortunes  to  be  made  out 
of  it  as  Pelle  was  working  it.  He  was  a  little  more  precise  than 
was  necessary  when  you  were  pressed  on  all  sides  by  vulgar 
competition. 

There  were,  for  instance,  still  a  number  of  people  who  kept 
to  the  good  old  handsewn  boots  and  shoes,  and  willingly  paid 
half  as  much  again  for  them.  A  good  many  small  shoemakers 
availed  themselves  of  this  by  advertising  handsewn  foot-wear, 
and  then  passed  the  measures  on  to  a  factory.  It  was  a  good 
business  for  both  factory  and  shoemaker,  but  Pelle  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  such  transactions.  He  put  his  trade-mark 
on  the  sole  of  everjrthing  that  went  out  of  his  workshop. 

Pelle  took  all  tiiis  with  dignified  calmness.  What  right  had 
he  to  demand  perspicuity  of  these  people?  It  was  his  business 
to  educate  them  to  it.  If  only  they  were  willing,  he  was  satis- 
fied. Some  day  he  supposed  he  would  take  them  so  far  that 
they  would  be  able  to  take  over  the  business  jointly,  or  make 
it  self-supporting;  but  imtil  then  they  would  have  to  fall  in 
with  his  plans. 

Part  of  a  great,  far-off  dream  was  nevertheless  being  realized 
in  his  undertaking,  modest  though  it  was  at  present;  and  if  it 
were  successful,  the  way  to  a  new  age  for  the  petty  tradesmen 
was  open.  And  what  was  of  still  more  importance,  his  own 
home  was  growing  through  this  work.  He  had  found  the  point 
where  the  happiness  of  the  many  lay  in  the  lengthening  of  his 
own;  he  had  got  the  right  way  now!  Sometimes  in  the  evening 
after  a  troublesome  day  he  felt  a  little  tired  of  the  difficulties; 
but  when  he  bicycled  down  toward  the  town  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, while  the  mists  of  night  drifted  across  the  fields  and  the 
lark  sang  above  his  head,  he  was  always  in  good  spirits.  Then 
he  could  follow  the  consequences  of  his  labor,  and  see  the  good 
principles  victorious  and  the  work  growing.    Kindred  enter- 


490  PELLE   THE   CONQITEEOB 

prises  sprang  np  in  other  parts  of  the  town^  in  other  towns,  still 
farther  out.  In  the  far  distance  he  conld  see  that  all  produc- 
tion was  in  the  hands  of  the  working-men  themselves. 

Peter  Dreyer  supported  him  like  a  good  comrade,  and  took 
a  good  deal  of  the  worry  off  his  shoulders.  He  unselfishly  put 
all  his  strength  into  it,  but  he  did  not  share  Pelle's  belief  in 
the  enormous  results  that  would  come  from  it.  '^ut,  dear  me^ 
this  is  capitalistic  too!''  he  said — ^^socialist  capitalism  I  Just 
look  up  to  the  pavement  I  there  goes  a  man  with  no  soles  to  his 
shoes,  and  his  feet  are  wet,  but  all  the  same  he  doesn't  come 
down  here  and  get  new  shoes,  for  we  want  money  for  them  just 
like  all  the  others,  and  those  who  need  our  work  most  simply 
have  none.  That  thing'' — ^he  went  on,  giving  a  kick  to  one  of 
the  machines — ^'^tums  tai  men  into  the  street  I  There  you  have 
the  whole  thing  I'' 

Pelle  defended  his  machines,  but  Peter  would  not  give  in. 
'^The  whole  thing  should  have  been  altered  first,''  be  said 
angrily.  ^As  it  is,  they  are  inventions  of  the  devil  I  The 
machines  have  come  a  day  or  two  too  early,  and  point  their 
mouths  at  us,  like  captured  cannons  I" 

'^The  machines  make  shoes  for  ten  times  as  many  people  as 
we  could  make  for  with  our  hands,"  said  Pelle,  '^and  tiiat  can 
hardly  be  called  a  misfortune.  If s  only  the  distribution  ihafs 
all  wrong." 

Peter  Dreyer  shrugged  his  shoulders;  he  would  not  discuss 
the  question  of  distribution  any  more.  If  they  meant  to  do 
anything  to  alter  it  he  was  willing  to  help.  There  had  been 
enough  nonsense  talked  about  it.  Those  who  had  money  could 
buy  up  all  that  they  made,  while  the  barefooted  would  be  no 
better  off  than  before.  It  was  a  deadlock.  Did  he  think  it 
would  revolutionize  the  world  if  every  man  received  the  entire 
proceeds  of  his  work?  That  only  meant  justice  in  the  existing 
conditions,  so  long  as  diamonds  continued  to  be  more  valuable 
than  bread.  ^^  dont  see  that  those  who  happen  to  have  work 
should  have  a  better  right  to  live  than  those  who  can't  get  any," 
he  said  wrathfully.  *'0r  perhaps  you  dont  know  the  curse  of 
unemployment!  Look  at  them  wandering  about  in  thousands, 
summer  and  winter,  a  whole  army  of  shadows!  The  oonmm- 
nily  provides  for  them  so  that  they  can  just  hang  tc^ther. 


DAYBREAK  491 

Oood  heavens^  that  isn't  helping  the  poor,  with  all  respect  to 
the  honorable  workman !  Let  him  keep  his  vote,  since  it  amnses 
him  I  Ifs  an  innocent  pleasure.  Just  think  if  he  demanded 
proper  food  instead  of  it  V^ 

Yes,  Pelle  was  well  enough  acquainted  with  the  great  hun- 
ger reserve;  he  had  very  nearly  been  transferred  into  it  himself. 
But  here  he  nevertheless  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  bottom.  There 
was  a  peaceable  strength  in  what  he  was  doing  that  might  carry 
them  on  a  long  way.  Peter  Dreyer  acknowledged  it  himself  by 
working  so  faithfully  with  him.  It  was  only  that  he  would  not 
admit  it. 

At  first  they  had  to  stand  a  good  deal,  but  by  degrees  Pelle 
learned  to  turn  things  off.  Peter,  who  was  generally  so  good 
and  amenable,  spoke  in  an  angry,  vexed  tone  when  the  conver- 
sation touched  upon  social  conditions;  it  was  as  though  he  was 
at  the  end  of  his  patience.  Though  he  earned  a  very  good 
amount,  he  was  badly  dressed  and  looked  as  if  he  did  not  get 
sufficient  food;  his  breakfast,  which  he  ate  together  with  the 
others  in  the  workshop,  generally  consisted  of  bread  and  mar- 
garine, and  he  quenched  his  thirst  at  the  water-tap.  At  first 
the  others  made  fun  of  his  prison  fare,  but  he  soon  taught  them 
to  mind  their  own  business:  it  was  not  safe  to  offend  him. 
Part  of  his  earnings  he  used  for  agitation,  and  his  comrades 
said  that  he  lived  with  a  humpbacked  woman  and  her  mother. 
He  himself  admitted  no  one  into  his  confidence,  but  grew  more 
and  more  reticent.  Pelle  knew  that  he  lived  in  one  of  the  Ye&- 
terbro  back  streets,  but  did  not  know  his  address.  When  he 
stood  silent  at  his  work,  his  expression  was  always  gloomy, 
sometimes  terribly  sad.    He  seemed  to  be  always  in  pain. 

The  police  were  always  after  him.  Pelle  had  once  or  twice 
received  a  hint  not  to  employ  him,  but  firmly  refused  to  submit 
to  any  interference  in  his  affairs.  It  was  then  arbitrarily  de- 
cided that  Peter  Dreyer  should  report  himself  to  the  authorities 
every  week. 

'1  won't  do  it  1''  he  said.  'Ifs  quite  illegal.  Pve  only  been 
punished  for  political  offences,  and  I've  been  so  careful  that 
they  shouldn't  be  able  to  get  at  me  for  any  formal  mistake,  and 
here  they're  having  this  triumph  I  I  won't !"  He  spoke  quietly 
and  without  excitement,  but  his  hands  shook. 


492  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

Pelle  tried  an  appeal  to  his  unselfishness.  ^T)o  it  for  my 
sake  then/'  he  said.  ^If  you  don't  theyTl  shut  you  up,  and 
you  know  I  can't  do  without  you." 

"Would  you  go  and  report  yourself  then  if  you  were  told 
toP'  Peter  asked. 

'HTes.  No  one  need  he  ashamed  of  submitting  to  superior 
brute  force." 

So  he  went.  But  it  cost  him  an  enormous  effort,  and  on 
that  day  in  the  week  it  was  better  to  leave  him  alone. 


XII 

Mabib's  fate  lay  no  longer  like  a  heavy  burden  upon  Pelle; 
time  had  taken  the  bitterness  out  of  it.  He  could  recall  without 
self-reproach  his  life  with  her  and  her  two  brothers  in  the  "Ark/* 
and  often  wondered  what  had  become  of  the  latter.  No  one 
could  give  him  any  information  about  them. 

One  day,  during  the  midday  rest,  he  went  on  his  bicycle  out 
to  Morten  with  a  message  from  Ellen.  In  Morten's  sitting- 
room,  a  hunched-up  figure  was  sitting  with  its  back  to  the  win- 
dow, staring  down  at  the  floor.  His  clothes  hung  loosely  upon 
him,  and  his  thin  hair  was  colorless.  He  slowly  raised  a  wasted 
face  as  he  looked  toward  the  door.  Pelle  had  already  recognized 
him  from  his  maimed  right  hand,  which  had  only  the  thumb 
and  one  joint  of  the  forefinger.  He  no  longer  hid  it  away,  but 
let  it  lie  upon  his  thin  knee. 

''Why,  good-day,  Peter!'*  exclaimed  Pelle  in  surprise,  hold- 
ing out  his  hand  to  take  the  other's  left  hand.  Peter  drew  the 
hand  out  of  his  pocket  and  held  it  out.  It  was  a  dead,  maimed 
lump  with  some  small  protuberances  like  rudiments  of  knuckles, 
that  Pelle  found  in  his  hand.  Peter  looked  into  his  face  with- 
out moving  a  muscle  of  his  own,  and  there  was  only  a  little 
gleam  in  his  eyes  when  Pelle  started. 

**What  in  the  world  are  you  starting  for?"  he  said  dryly. 
*1  should  think  any  one  might  have  known  that  a  fellow 
couldn't  mind  a  shearing-machine  with  one  hand.  I  knew  it 
just  as  well  as  everybody  else  in  the  factory,  and  expected  it 
every  day;  and  at  last  I  had  to  shut  my  eyes.  Confound  it,  I 
often  thought,  won't  there  soon  be  an  end  to  it?  And  then  one 
day  there  it  was !" 

Pelle  shivered.  'TDidn't  you  get  any  accident  insurance?" 
he  asked  in  order  to  say  something. 

493 


494  PELLB   THE   CONQUEROE 

*'0f  conrse  I  did  I  The  whole  counciT  gathered  <m  aoooxmt 
of  my  humble  self,  and  I  was  awarded  three  thousand  kroneB 
(£170)  as  entirely  invalided.  Well,  the  master  possessed  noth- 
ing and  had  never  insured  me,  so  it  never  got  beyond  the  paper. 
Bnt  anyhow  ifs  a  great  advance  upon  the  last  time,  isnH  it? 
Our  party  has  accomplished  something  I''  He  looked  mock- 
ingly at  Pelle.  ^TTou  ought  to  give  a  cheer  for  paper 
reforms  1** 

Peter  was  a  messenger  and  a  kind  of  secretary  in  a  revolu- 
tionary association  for  young  men.  He  had  taught  himself  to 
read  and  sat  with  other  yoxmg  men  studying  anarchistic  litera- 
ture. The  others  took  care  of  him  like  brothers;  but  it  was  a 
marvel  that  he  had  not  gone  to  the  dogs.  He  was  nothing  but 
skin  and  bone,  and  resembled  a  fanatic  that  is  almost  consumed 
by  his  own  fire.  His  intelligence  had  never  been  much  to  boast 
of,  but  there  were  not  many  difficulties  in  the  problem  that  life 
had  set  him.  He  hated  with  a  logic  that  was  quite  convincing. 
The  strong  community  had  passed  a  sham  law,  whidi  was  not 
even  liable  for  the  obligations  that  it  admitted  that  it  had  witii 
regard  to  him.  He  had  done  with  it  now  and  belonged  to  llie 
destructionists. 

He  had  come  up  to  Morten  to  ask  him  to  give  a  reading  at 
the  Club.  'Ifs  not  because  we  appreciate  authors — ^you  mustn't 
imagine  that,'*  he  said  with  a  gloomy  look.  **They  Kve  upon  us 
and  enjoy  a  meaningless  respect  for  it.  Ifs  only  manual  labor 
that  deserves  to  be  honored ;  everything  else  sponges  on  us.  I'm 
only  telling  you  so  that  you  shan't  come  imagining  something 
diflFerenf 

^TPhank  you,''  said  Morten,  smiling.  *^f  s  always  nice  to 
know  what  you're  valued  at.  And  still  you  think  you  can  make 
use  of  me?" 

^es,  you're  one  of  the  comparatively  better  ones  among 
those  who  work  to  maintain  the  capitalists;  but  we're  agreed  at 
the  Club  that  you're  not  a  real  proletariat  writer,  you're  far  too 
much  elaborated.  There  have  never  been  proletariat  writer^ 
and  if s  of  no  consequence  either,  for  entertainment  shouldn't 
be  made  out  of  misery.  If  s  very  likely  youTl  hear  all  about 
that  up  there." 

'Tiaf  8  all  right.    Ill  be  sure  to  come,"  answered  Morten. 


DAYBBEAE  496 

**And  if  ybuTl  write  us  a  cantata  for  our  anniversary  festival 
— ^iVs  the  day  of  the  great  Bussian  massacre — 111  see  that  if s 
accepted.    Bnt  it  mustn^t  be  the  usual  hallelujah  V* 

'I'm  glad  I  met  you/'  he  said  to  Pelle  with  his  unchanging 
expression  of  gloom.    **Have  you  seen  anything  of  Karl  ?*' 

**No,  where  is  he?*'  asked  Pelle  eagerly. 

'TEe's  a  swell  now.  He's  got  a  business  in  Adel  Street;  but 
he  won't  enjoy  it  long." 

**Why  not  ?   Is  there  anything  wrong  with  his  affairs  ?" 

'^Nothing  more  than  that  some  day  well  pull  the  whole  thing 
down  upon  all  your  heads.  Therell  soon  be  quite  a  number  of 
us.  I  say,  you  might  speak  one  evening  in  our  association,  and 
tell  us  something  about  your  prison  life.  I  think  it  would  in- 
terest them.  We  don't  generally  have  outsiders,  for  we  speak 
for  ourselves ;  but  I  don't  think  ihere'd  be  any  difficulty  in  get- 
ting you  introduced.'' 

Pelle  promised. 

**He's  a  devil-may-care  fellow,  isn't  he?"  exclaimed  Morten 
when  he  had  shut  the  door  on  Peter,  "but  he's  no  fool.  Did  you 
notice  that  he  never  asked  for  anything?  They  never  do. 
When  they're  hungry  they  go  up  to  the  first  person  they  meet 
and  say:  ^t  me  have  something  to  eati'  Ifs  all  the  same  to 
them  whaf s  put  into  their  mouths  so  long  as  ifs  satisfying,  and 
they  never  thank  gratefully.  Nothing  affects  them.  They're 
men  who  put  the  thief  above  the  beggar.  I  don't  dislike  it 
really;  there's  a  new  tone  in  it.  Perhaps  our  well-behaved  rumi- 
nant's busy  doing  away  with  one  stomach  and  making  up  the 
spare  material  into  teeth  and  claws." 

**If  only  they'd  come  forward  and  do  workl"  said  Pelle* 
^Strong  words  don't  accomplish  much." 

**How's  it  going  with  your  peaceable  revolution?"  asked 
Morten  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  ^^Do  you  see  any  progress  in 
the  work?" 

"Oh,  yes,  ifs  slow  but  sure.  Bome  wasn't  built  in  a  day.  I 
didn't  think  though  that  you  were  interested  in  it." 

*T.  think  you're  on  the  right  tack,  Pelle,"  answered  Morten 
seriously,  ^^ut  let  the  young  ones  light  the  fire  underneath, 
and  ifU  go  aU  the  quicker.  That  new  eventualities  crop  up  in 
this  country  is  no  disadvantage;  the  governing  body  may  very 


496  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

well  be  made  aware  that  there's  gunpowder  under  their  seats. 
It^  immensely  strengthen  their  sense  of  responsibility !  Would 
yon  like  to  see  Johanna  ?  She's  been  wanting  very  much  to  see 
yon.    She's  ill  again  unfortunately." 

^llen  sent  me  out  to  propose  that  she  should  come  to  stay 
with  us  in  the  country.  She  thinks  the  child  must  be  a  great 
trouble  to  you  and  cannot  be  properly  looked  after  here  either." 

*T[t's  very  kind  of  your  wife  to  think  of  it,  but  hasnt  she 
enough  to  do  already  ?" 

''Oh,  Ellen  can  manage  a  great  deal,"  said  Pelle  heartily. 
'TTou  would  be  giving  her  a  pleasure." 

'Then  111  say  Thank  you'  for  the  oflfer,"  exclaimed  Morten, 
'nfll  be  a  great  relief  to  me,  if  only  she  can  stand  the  moving. 
It  isn't  that  she  gives  me  any  trouble  now,  for  we  get  on  capi- 
tally together.  Johanna  is  good  and  manageable,  really  a  splen- 
did character  in  spite  of  her  spoiling.  You  won't  have  any  dif- 
ficulty with  her.  And  I  think  ifll  be  good  for  her  to  be  away 
from  me  here,  and  be  somewhere  where  there's  a  woman  to  se^ 
to  her — and  children.    She  doesn't  get  much  attention  here." 

They  went  in  to  her  and  found  her  asleep,  her  pale  face  cov- 
ered with  large  drops  of  moisture.  "It's  exhaustion,"  whispered 
Morten.  "She's  not  got  much  strength  yet.  Their  presence 
made  her  sleep  disturbed,  and  she  tossed  from  side  to  side  and 
then,  suddenly  opening  her  eyes,  gazed  about  her  with  an  ex- 
pression of  wild  terror.  In  a  moment  she  recognized  th^n  and 
smiled ;  and  raising  herself  a  little  she  held  out  both  her  hands 
to  Pelle  with  a  charming  expression  of  childish  coquetry. 

Tell  me  about  the  house  out  there  and  Boy  Comfort,"  she 
said,  making  room  for  him  on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  ''Ifs  so 
tiresome  here,  and  Mr.  Morten's  so  serious."  And  she  threw  a 
glance  of  defiance  at  him. 

''Is  he?"  said  Pelle.  "l^at  must  be  because  he  writes 
books.*' 

^o,  but  I  must  keep  up  a  little  dignity,"  said  Morten,  as- 
suming a  funny,  schoolmasterish  expression.  This  young 
lady's  beginning  to  be  saucy  f " 

Johanna  lay  and  laughed  to  herself,  her  eyes  travelling  from 
one  to  the  other  of  them.  'TBCe  ought  to  have  a  pair  of  spec- 
tacles, and  then  he'd  be  like  a  real  one,"  she  said.    She  spoka 


DAYBREAK  497 

hardly  above  a  whisper^  it  was  all  she  had  strength  for ;  but  her 
voice  was  mischievous. 

'TTou  must  come  to  us  if  he's  so  bad/'  said  Pelle,  *'and  then 
you  can  play  with  the  children  and  lie  in  the  sunshine  out  in 
the  garden.  You  don't  know  how  lovely  it  is  there  now  ?  Yes, 
I'm  really  in  earnest/'  he  continued,  as  she  still  smiled.  ^'EUen 
asked  me  to  come  and  say  so." 

She  suddenly  became  grave  and  looked  from  the  one  to  the 
other;  then  looking  down,  and  with  her  face  turned  away,  she 
asked :    '"Will  Morten  be  there  too  ?" 

'^0,  Johanna,  I  must  stay  here,  of  course;  but  111  come  out 
to  see  you." 

^very  day?"  Her  face  was  turned  to  the  waU,  and  she 
scratched  the  paper  with  her  nails. 

*T.  shall  come  and  see  my  little  swetheart  just  as  often  as  I 
can,"  said  Morten,  stroking  her  hair. 

The  red  blood  suffused  her  neck  in  a  sudden  wave,  and  was 
imperceptibly  absorbed  in  the  paleness  of  her  skin,  like  a  dying 
ember.  Hanne's  blood  came  and  went  in  the  same  way  for  the 
merest  trifle.  Johanna  had  inherited  her  mother's  bashfulness 
and  unspeakable  charm,  and  also  her  capricious  temper. 

She  lay  with  her  back  turned  toward  them  and  made  no 
reply  to  their  persuasions.  It  was  not  easy  to  say  whether  she 
even  heard  them,  until  suddenly  she  turned  to  Morten  with 
an  expression  of  hatred  on  her  face.  'HTou  don't  need  to 
trouble,"  she  said,  with  glowing  eyes;  ''you  can  easily  get  rid 
of  me  1" 

Morten  only  looked  at  her  sorrowfully,  but  Pelle  was  angry. 
''You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  for  taking  it  like  that," 
he  said.  "Is  that  aU  the  thanks  Morten  gets  for  what  he's  done  ? 
I  must  say  you're  a  grateful  child !" 

Johanna  took  the  scolding  without  moving  a  muscle  of  her 
face,  but  when  he  ceased  she  quietly  took  his  hand  and  laid  it 
over  her  delicate,  thm  face,  which  it  quite  covered.  There  she 
hj  peeping  out  at  him  and  Morten  between  the  large  fingers, 
with  a  strangely  resigned  expression  that  was  meant  to  be 
roguish.  "I  know  it  was  horrid  of  me,"  she  said  dully,  moving 
Pelle's  middle  finger  backward  and  forward  in  front  of  her  eyes 
so  that  she  squinted ;  "but  111  do  what  you  tell  me.    EUe-Pelle, 


498  PELLE  THE   COITQUEBOB 

Morten-Porten — ^I  can  talk  ibe  P-langoageP    And  she  lanf^ied 
an  embarrassed  laugh. 

^ou  don't  know  how  much  better  and  happier  youll  be 
when  you  get  out  to  Pelle's^''  said  Morten. 

^  coidd  easily  get  up  and  do  the  work  of  the  house^  so  that 
you  didnH  need  to  have  a  woman/'  she  whispered,  gazing  at  him 
passionately  with  her  big  eyes.    ^*m  well  enough  now.'' 

^y  dear  child,  thafs  not  what  I  mean  at  alll  Ifs  for  your 
sake.  Don't  you  understand  that  ?"  said  Morten  earnestly,  bend- 
ing over  her. 

Johanna's  gaze  wandered  round  hopelessly,  as  if  she  had 
given  up  aU  thought  of  being  understood  any  more. 

^  don't  think  we'll  move  her  against  her  will,"  said  Morten, 
as  he  went  down  with  Pelle.  ^She  is  so  capricious  in  her  moods. 
I  think,  too,  I  should  miss  her,  for  she's  a  good  little  souL 
When  she's  up  she  goes  creeping  about  and  is  often  quite  tondi* 
ing  in  her  desire  to  make  me  comfortable.  And  suddenly  reoob 
lections  of  her  former  life  awaken  in  her  and  darken  her  mind; 
she's  still  very  mistrustful  and  afraid  of  being  burdensome. 
But  she  needs  the  companionship  of  women,  some  one  to  whom 
she  can  talk  confidentially.  She  has  too  much  on  her  mind  for 
a  child." 

^Couldnt  you  bofli  move  out  to  us?  You  can  have  the  two 
upstairs  rooms." 

^Thafs  not  a  bad  idea,"  exclaimed  Morten.  *^ay  I  have 
two  or  three  days  j^  think  it  over?  And  my  love  to  EUen  and 
the  children!" 


xni 


When  the  workshop  closed,  Pelle  often  went  on  working  for 
an  hour  or  two  in  the  shop,  getting  the  accounts  straight  and 
arranging  the  work  for  the  following  day  in  the  integrals  of 
attending  to  customers.  A  little  before  mx  he  closed  the  shop, 
mounted  his  bicycle  and  hastened  home  with  longing  for  the 
nest  in  his  heart. 

.  Ey^  one  else  seemed  to  feel  as  he  did.  There  was  a  pe* 
culiar  homeward  current  in  the  traffic  of  the  streets.  Cyclists 
overtook  him  in  whole  flocks,  and  raced  in  shoals  in  front  of 
the.  trams,  which  looked  as  if  they  squirted  them  away  from  the 
lines  as  they  worked  their  way  akmg  with  incessant,  deafening 
ringing,  bounding  up  and  down  under  the  weight  of  the  over- 
filled platforms. 

Crowds  of  men  and  women  were  on  their  way  out,  and  met 
other  crowds  whose  homes  were  in  the  opposite  quarter.  On  the 
outskirts  of  the  town  the  factory  whistles  were  crowing  like  a 
choir  of  giant  cocks,  a  single  one  beginning,  the  others  all  join- 
ing in.  Sooty  workmen  poured  out  of  ihe  gates,  with  beer- 
bottles  sticking  out  of  coat-pockets  and  dinner  handkerchiefs 
dangling  from  a  finger.  Women  who  had  been  at  work  or  out 
maldng  purchases,  stood  with  their  baskets  on  their  arms,  wait- 
ing for  their  husbands  at  the  comer  of  the  street  Little  chil- 
dren tripping  along  hand  in  hand  suddenly  caught  sight  of  a 
man  far  off  in  the  crowd,  and  set  off  at  a  run  to  throw  them- 
selves at  his  legs. 

Sister  often  ran  right  across  the  fields  to  meet  her  father, 
and  Ellen  stood  at  the  gate  of  ^^Daybreak*'  and  waited.  ^'Oood- 
day,  Mr.  Manufacturer  I''  she  cried  as  he  approached.  She  was 
Tfiftirifig  up  for  so  much  now,  and  was  glowing  with  health  and 

499 


500  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOH 

happiness.  It  was  no  use  for  Pelle  to  protest,  and  declare  that 
in  his  world  there  were  only  workmen;  she  would  not  give  np 
the  title.  He  was  the  one  who  directed  the  whole  thing,  and 
she  did  not  mind  abont  the  fellowship.  She  was  proud  of  him, 
and  he  might  call  himself  an  errand-boy  if  he  liked;  men  must 
always  have  some  crochet  or  other  in  their  work,  or  else  it  would 
not  satisfy  than.  The  arrangement  about  the  equal  division 
she  did  not  understand,  but  she  was  sure  that  her  big,  dever 
husband  deserved  to  have  twice  as  much  as  any  of  the  others. 
She  did  not  trouble  her  head  about  that,  however;  she  lived  her 
own  life  and  was  contented  and  happy. 

Pelle  had  feared  that  she  would  tire  of  the  country,  and 
apparently  she  did  not  take  to  it.  She  weeded  and  worked  in 
the  garden  with  her  customary  energy,  and  by  degrees  acquired 
a  fair  knowledge  of  the  work;  but  it  did  not  seem  to  afford 
her  any  peculiar  enjoyment.  It  was  no  pleasure  to  her  to  dig 
her  fingers  into  the  mould.  Pelle  and  the  children  throve  here, 
and  that  determined  her  relations  to  the  place;  but  she  did  not 
strike  root  on  her  own  account.  She  could  thrive  anywhere  in 
the  world  if  only  they  were  there ;  and  their  welfare  was  hers. 
She  grew  out  from  them,  and  had  her  own  wonderful  growth 
inward. 

Within  her  there  were  strange  hidden  forces  that  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  theories  or  systems,  but  produced  the  warmth 
that  bore  up  the  whole.  Pelle  no  longer  desired  to  force  his 
way  in  there.  What  did  he  care  about  logical  understanding 
between  man  and  woman?  It  was  her  heart  with  which  he 
needed  to  be  irradiated.  He  required  to  be  understood  by  his 
friends.  His  great  satisfaction  in  being  with,  for  instance, 
Morten,  was  that  in  perfect  unanimity  they  tatted  until  they 
came  to  a  stopping-place,  and  if  they  were  then  silent  their 
thoughts  ran  on  on  parallel  lines  and  were  side  by  side  when 
they  emerged  once  more.  But  even  if  he  and  Ellen  started  from 
the  same  point,  the  shortest  pause  would  take  their  thoughts  in 
different  directions;  he  never  knew  where  she  would  appear 
again.  No  matter  how  well  he  thought  he  knew  her,  she  always 
came  up  just  as  surprisingly  and  unexpectedly  behind  him. 
And  was  it  not  just  that  he  loved  ?  Why  then  contend  with  it 
on  the  basis  of  the  claims  of  a  poor  logic? 


DAYBREAK  601 

She  continued  to  be  just  as  unfathomable,  no  matter  how 
much  of  her  he  thought  he  had  mastered.  She  became  greater 
and  greater  with  it,  and  she  brought  him  a  new,  strange  world 
— ^the  mysterious  luiknown  with  which  he  had  always  had  to 
strive,  allowed  itself  to  be  tenderly  embraced.  He  no  longer 
demanded  the  whole  of  her;  in  his  inmost  soul  probably  every 
human  being  was  lonely.  He  guessed  that  she  was  going 
through  her  own  development  in  concealment,  and  wondered 
where  she  would  appear  again. 

It  had  formerly  been  a  grief  to  him  that  she  did  not  join  the 
Movement;  she  was  not  interested  in  political  questions  and  the 
suffrage.  He  now  dimly  realized  that  that  was  just  her  strengtii, 
and  in  any  case  he  did  not  wish  her  otherwise.  She  seldom 
interfered  definitely  with  what  he  did,  and  why  should  she? 
She  exerted  a  silent  influence  upon  everything  he  did,  stamped 
each  of  his  thoughts  from  the  moment  tiiey  began  to  shoot  up. 
For  the  very  reason  that  she  did  not  know  how  to  discuss,  she 
could  not  be  refuted;  what  to  him  was  downright  logic  had  no 
effect  whatever  upon  her.  He  did  not  get  his  own  thoughts 
again  stale  from  her  lips,  and  did  not  wish  to  either;  her  won- 
derful power  over  him  lay  in  the  fact  that  she  rested  so  se- 
curely on  her  own,  and  answered  the  most  crushing  arguments 
with  a  smile.  PeUe  was  beginning  to  doubt  as  to  the  value  of 
superiority  of  intellect;  it  seemed  to  have  undisputed  nile  over 
the  age,  but  did  not  accomplish  chiefly  good.  As  compared 
with  Ellen's  nature,  it  seemed  to  him  poor.  The  warmth  in  a 
kiss  convinced  her  better  than  a  thousand  sensible  reasons,  and 
yet  she  seldom  made  a  mistake. 

And  she  herself  gave  out  warmth.  They  went  to  her,  both 
he  and  the  children,  when  there  was  anything  wrong.  She  did 
not  say  much,  but  she  warmed.  She  still  always  seemed  to  him 
like  a  pulse  that  beat,  living  and  palpable,  out  from  the  invis- 
ible, with  a  strangely  tranquil  speech.  When  his  head  was  hot 
and  tired  with  adverse  happenings,  there  was  nothing  more  de- 
lightful than  to  rest  it  upon  her  bosom  and  listen,  only  half 
awake,  to  the  dull,  soothing  murmur  within  like  that  of  the 
earth's  springs  when,  in  his  childhood,  he  laid  his  ear  to  the 
grass. 

The  spring  was  beautiful,  and  they  were  much  out  in  it; 


602  PELLE  THE   CONQTJEBOE 

when  no  one  could  see  them  they  walked  hand-in-hand  along 
the  dikes  like  two  young  lovers.  Then  Pelle  talked  and  showed 
her  things.  Look  I  there  it  grew  in  that  way,  and  here  in  quite 
a  different  way.  Was  it  not  strange?  He  lived  over  again  all 
his  childhood's  excitement  in  spring.  Ellen  listened  to  him, 
smiling;  she  was  not  astonished  at  anything  so  natural  as  that 
things  grew;  she  was  merely  transformed!  The  earth  simply 
sent  up  its  juices  into  her  too. 

The  fresh  air  and  the  work  in  the  garden  tanned  her  bare 
arms,  and  gave  strength  and  beauty  to*her  figure,  while  her 
easy  circumstances  freed  her  from  care.  One  day  a  new  being 
showed  in  her  eyes,  and  looked  at  Pelle  with  the  inquisitiveness 
of  a  kid.  '^Shall  we  playP'  it  said.  Was  it  he  or  the  spring 
that  set  fire  to  her?  No  matter  I  The  pleasure  was  his  I  The 
sunshine  entered  the  innermost  comers  of  his  soul,  the  mustj 
comers  left  by  the  darkness  of  his  prison-cell,  and  cured  him 
completely;  her  freedom  from  care  infected  him,  and  he  was 
entirely  happy.  It  was  Ellen  who  had  done  it  aU;  at  last  she 
had  taken  upon  herself  to  be  the  messenger  between  joy  and 
himi 

She  became  gentler  and  more  vigorous  in  disposition  every 
day.  The  sun  and  the  wind  across  the  open  country  called 
forth  something  in  her  that  had  never  be^  there  before,  an 
innocent  pleasure  in  her  own  body  and  a  physical  appetite  that 
made  her  teeth  white  and  gleaming.  She  was  radiant  with  de- 
light when  Pelle  brought  her  little  things  to  adorn  herself  witii ; 
she  did  not  use  them  for  the  children  now!  'Iiookl''  she  said 
once,  holding  up  a  piece  of  dark  velvet  to  her  face  which  in  ibe 
evening  gave  out  again  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  as  hay  its  aceni 
^ou  must  give  me  a  dress  like  this  when  we  become  rich.^ 
And  her  eyes  sparkled  as  she  looked  at  him,  full  of  promises  of 
abundant  returns.  He  thought  he  belonged  to  the  soil,  and  yet 
it  was  through  her  that  he  first  really  came  into  contact  with  it! 
There  was  worship  of  nature  in  the  appetite  with  which  she 
crunched  the  first  radishes  of  the  year  and  delighted  in  fheir 
juicy  freshness;  and  when  in  the  evening  he  sprang  from  his 
bicycle  and  took  her  in  his  arms,  she  herself  eidialed  the  fresh 
perfume  of  all  that  had  passed  through  the  spring  day — the 
wind  and  the  products  of  the  soiL    He  could  smell  in  her  breatii 


DAYBBEAE  603 

the  perfume  of  wild  honey^  mixed  with  the  pollen  and  nectar  of 
wild  flowers;  and  she  would  close  her  eyes  as  though  she  herself 
were  intoxicated  with  it. 

Their  dawning  affection  became  passionate  first  love  out 
here.  Ellen  was  always  standing  at  the  gate  waiting  for  him. 
As  soon  as  Pelle  had  had  his  supper,  the  children  dragged  him 
roimd  the  garden  to  show  him  what  had  taken  place  during  the 
day.  They  held  his  hands  and  Ellen  had  to  walk  by  herself. 
Pelle  and  she  had  an  intense  desire  to  be  close  together,  but 
the  little  ones  would  not  submit  to  be  set  aside,  '^e's  our 
father!''  they  said;  and  Pelle  and  Ellen  were  like  two  young 
people  that  are  kept  cruelly  apart  by  a  remorseless  fate,  and 
they  looked  at  one  another  with  eyes  that  were  heavy  with 
expression. 

When  the  little  ones  had  gone  to  bed  they  stole  away  from 
it  all,  leaving  Lasse  Frederik  in  charge  of  the  house.  He  had 
seen  an  artist  sitting  outside  the  hedge  and  painting  the  smoky 
city  in  the  spring  light,  and  had  procured  himself  a  paintbox. 
He  sat  out  Ihere  every  evening  now,  daubing  away  busily.  He 
did  not  mean  to  be  a  sailor  now  I 

They  went  up  past  the  farm  and  on  toward  the  evening  sun, 
walked  hand-in-hand  in  the  dewy  grass,  gazing  silently  in  front 
of  them.  The  ruddy  evening  light  colored  their  faces  and  made 
their  eyes  glow.  There  was  a  little  grove  of  trees  not  far  off, 
to  which  they  often  went  so  as  to  be  quite  away  from  the  world. 
With  their  arms  round  one  another  they  passed  into  the  deep 
twilight,  whispering  together.  Now  and  then  she  bent  her  head 
back  for  him  to  kiss  her,  when  an  invisible  ray  would  strike  her 
eye  and  be  refracted  into  a  rainbow-colored  star,  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

A  high  dike  of  turfs  ran  along  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and 
low  over  it  hung  hazel  and  young  beech  trees.  In  under  the 
branches  there  were  little  bowers  where  they  hid  themselves; 
the  dead  leaves  had  drifted  together  in  under  the  dike  and  made 
a  soft  couch.  The  birds  above  their  heads  gave  little  sleepy 
chirps,  turned  on  the  branch  and  twittered  softly  as  though 
they  dreamed  the  day's  melodies  over  again.  Sometimes  the 
moon  peeped  in  at  them  with  a  broad  smile.  The  heavy  night- 
exhalations  of  the  leaves  lulled  them  to  sleep,  and  sometimes 


604  PELLE   THE   CONQTTEBOB 

they  were  only  wakened  by  the  tremor  that  passes  through  every- 
thing  when  the  sun  rises.  Pelle  would  be  cold  then^  but  Ellen's 
body  was  always  warm  although  she  had  removed  some  of  her 
clothing  to  make  a  pillow  for  their  heads. 

She  still  continued  to  be  motherly;  her  devotion  only  called 
forth  new  sides  of  her  desire  for  selfHsacrifice.  How  rich  she 
was  in  her  motherliness !  She  demanded  nothing  but  the  hard 
ground^  and  could  not  make  herself  soft  enough:  everything 
was  for  him.  And  she  could  make  herself  so  incomprehensibly 
soft  I  Providence  had  thrown  all  His  riches  and  warmth  into 
her  lap;  it  was  no  wonder  that  both  life  and  happiness  had 
made  their  nesting-place  there. 

Their  love  increased  with  the  sunshine^  and  made  every- 
thing bright  and  good;  there  was  no  room  for  any  darkness. 
Pelle  met  all  troubles  with  a  smile.  He  went  about  in  a  state 
of  semi-stupor,  and  even  his  most  serious  business  affairs  could 
not  effflice  Ellen's  picture  from  his  mind.  Her  breath  warmed 
the  air  around  him  throughout  the  day,  and  made  him  hasten 
home.  At  table  at  home  they  had  secret  signs  that  referred 
to  their  secret  world.  They  were  living  in  the  first  love  of 
youth  with  all  its  sweet  secrecy,  and  smiled  at  one  another  in 
youthful,  stealthy  comprehension,  as  though  the  whole  world 
were  watching  them  and  must  learn  nothing.  If  their  feet 
touched  under  the  table,  their  eyes  met  and  Ellen  would  blush 
like  a  young  girl.  Her  affection  was  so  great  that  she  could  not 
bear  it  to  be  known,  even  to  themselves.  A  red  flame  passed 
over  her  face,  and  her  eyes  were  veiled  as  though  she  hid  in 
them  the  unspeakable  sweetness  of  her  tryst  from  time  to  time. 
She  rarely  spoke  and  generally  answered  with  a  smile;  she  sang 
softly  to  herself,  filled  with  the  happiness  of  youth. 

«  «  «  «  « 

One  afternoon  when  he  came  cycling  home  Ellen  did  not 
meet  him  as  usual.  He  became  anxious,  and  hurried  in.  The 
sofa  was  made  into  a  bed,  and  Ellen  was  standing  by  it,  bend- 
ing over  Johanna,  who  lay  shivering  with  fever.  EUen  raised 
her  head  and  said,  ^^ush!''  The  children  were  sitting  in  a 
comer  gazing  fearfully  at  the  sick  girl,  who  lay  with  closed 
eyes,  moaning  slightly. 

''She  came  running  out  here  this  afternoon,^  whispered 


DAYBEEAK  605 

EUen^  looking  strangely  at  him;  '^I  canH  think  why.  She's 
terribly  ill  I  IVe  sent  Lasse  Frederik  in  to  Morten^  so  that  he 
may  know  she's  with  ns/' 

**Have  you  sent  for  the  doctor?'*  asked  Pelle,  bending  down 
over  Johanna. 

'TTes.  Lasse  Frederik  will  tell  Morten  to  bring  his  doctor 
with  him.  He  must  know  her  best.  I  should  think  they'll  soon 
be  here." 

A  shivering  fit  came  over  Johanna.  She  lay  working  her 
tongue  against  the  dry  roof  of  her  mouthy  now  and  then  utter- 
ing a  number  of  disconnected  words,  and  tossing  to  and  fro 
upon  the  bed.  Suddenly  she  raised  herself  in  terror,  her  wide- 
open  eyes  fixed  upon  Pelle,  but  with  no  recognition  in  them. 
**Go  awayl  I  won't  1"  she  screamed,  pushing  him  away.  His 
deep  voice  calmed  her,  however,  and  she  allowed  herself  to  be 
laid  down  once  more,  and  then  lay  still  with  closed  eyes. 

"Some  one  has  been  after  her,"  said  Ellen,  weeping.  ''What 
can  it  be  ?" 

'It's  the  old  story,"  Pelle  whispered  with  emotion.  'Tlor- 
ten  says  that  it  constantly  reappears  in  her. — Take  the  children 
out  into  the  garden,  Ellen.    I'll  stay  here  with  her." 

Ellen  went  out  with  the  little  ones,  who  could  hardly  be 
persuaded  to  come  out  of  their  comer;  but  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore their  chattering  voices  could  be  heard  out  on  the  grass. 

Pelle  sat  with  his  hand  on  Johanna's  forehead,  staring 
straight  before  him.  He  had  been  rudely  awakened  to  the  hor- 
ror of  life  once  more.  Convulsive  tremors  passed  through  her 
tortured  brow.  It  was  as  if  he  held  in  his  hand  a  fiuttering  soul 
that  had  been  trodden  in  the  mire  beneath  heavy  heels — a  poor 
crushed  fiedgeling  that  could  neither  fly  nor  die. 

He  was  roused  by  the  sound  of  a  carriage  driving  quickly 
up  to  the  garden  gate,  and  went  out  to  meet  the  men. 

The  doctor  was  very  doubtful  about  Johanna's  condition. 
'I'm  afraid  that  the  fits  will  increase  rather  than  decrease,"  he 
said  in  a  whisper.  *'It  would  be  better  if  she  were  sent  to  the 
hospital  as  soon  as  she's  able  to  be  moved." 

'Would  it  be  better  for  her  ?"  asked  Ellen. 

'TTo,  not  exactly  for  her,  but — shell  be  a  difficult  patient, 
you  know !" 


606  PELLE  THE   CONQTJEBOH 

'Then  she  ahall  remain  here,''  said  Ellen;  ^she  shall  be  ireO 
looked  after.'' 

Lasse  Frederik  had  to  take  his  bicycle  and  ride  to  the 
chemist's,  and  immediately  after  the  doctor  droTe  away. 

They  sat  ontside  the  garden  door,  so  that  they  conld  hear 
any  sonnd  from  the  sick  girl,  and  talked  together  in  low  tones. 
It  was  sad  to  see  Morten;  Johanna's  fli^t  from  him  had 
wonnded  him  deeply. 

^  wonder  why  she  did  it?"  said  Pelle. 

^She's  been  strange  oyer  since  yon  came  np  and  proposed 
that  she  shonld  come  out  to  yon,"  said  Morten  sadly.  ^She  got 
it  into  her  head  that  she  was  a  bnrden  to  me  and  that  I  would 
like  to  get  rid  of  her.  Two  or  three  days  ago  she  got  np  while 
I  was  ont,  and  began  working  in  the  honse — I  suppose  as  a 
return  for  my  keeping  her.  She's  morbidly  sensitiye.  When  I 
distinctly  forbade  her  she  declared  that  she  wouldn't  owe  me 
anything  and  meant  to  go  away.  I  knew  that  she  might  yery 
likely  do  it  in  spite  of  her  being  ill,  so  I  stayed  at  home.  At 
midday  to-day  I  just  went  down  to  fetch  milk,  and  when  I 
came  up  she  was  gone.  It  was  a  good  thing  she  came  out  here; 
I  think  she'd  do  anything  when  once  the  idea's  taken  her  tiiat 
she's  a  burden." 

^She  must  be  yery  fond  of  you,"  said  Ellen,  looking  at  him. 

^  don't  think  so,"  answered  Morten,  with  a  sad  smile.  ''At 
any  rate,  she's  hidden  it  welL  My  impression  is  fliat  she's  hated 
me  ever  since  the  day  we  spoke  of  her  coming  out  here. — ^May  I 
stay  here  for  the  night?" 

'If  you  can  put  up  with  what  we  have,"  answered  Ellen. 
"It  won't  be  a  luxurious  bed,  but  it^  be  something  to  lie 
down  on." 

Morten  did  not  want  a  bed,  however.  "Ill  sit  up  and  watdi 
over  Johanna,"  he  said. 


Thb  house  was  thus  transfonned  into  a  nnrsiiig  home.  It 
was  a  hard  hit  at  their  careless  happiness,  but  they  took  it  as 
it  came.  Neither  of  them  demanded  more  of  life  than  it  was 
capable  of. 

Ellen  was  with  the  sick  girl  day  and  night  until  the  worst 
was  oyer;  she  neglected  both  Pelle  and  the  children  to  giye  all 
her  care  to  Johanna. 

'TTou've  got  far  too  much  to  do/'  said  Pelle  anxiously. 
'ItTl  end  in  your  being  ill  too.  Do  let  us  have  help  1*'  And  as 
Ellen  would  not  hear  of  it^  he  took  the  matter  into  his  own 
hands^  and  got  ''Queen  Theresa''  to  be  out  there  during  the  day. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  Morten  arranged  his  affairs,  got 
rid  of  his  flat,  and  moved  out  to  them.  'Ton  won't  be  able  to 
run  away  from  me,  after  all,"  he  said  to  Johanna,  who  was  sit- 
ting up  in  bed  listening  to  the  carrying  upstairs  of  his  things. 
'TVhen  you're  well  enough  you  shall  be  moved  up  into  the  big 
attic;  and  then  we  two  shall  live  upstairs  and  be  jolly  again, 
won't  we  ?" 

She  made  no  answer,  but  flushed  with  pleasure. 

Ellen  now  received  from  Morten  the  amount  he  usually 
spent  in  a  month  on  food  and  house-rent.  She  was  quite  dis- 
concerted. What  was  she  to  do  with  all  that  money?  It  was 
far  too  much!  Well,  they  need  no  longer  be  anxious  about 
their  rent. 

Johanna  was  soon  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  get  up 
for  a  little.  The  country  air  had  a  beneflcial  effect  upon  her 
nerves,  and  Ellen  knew  how  to  keep  her  in  good  spirits.  Old 
Brun  made  her  a  present  of  a  beautiful  red  and  yellow  reclining 
chair  of  basket  work;  and  when  the  sun  shone  she  was  carried 
out  onto  the  grass,  where  she  lay  and  watched  the  children's 

107 


608  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

play,  sometimes  joining  in  the  game  from  her  chair,  and  order- 
ing them  hither  and  thither.  Boy  Comfort  submitted  to  it 
good-naturedly,  but  Sister  was  a  little  more  reserved.  She  did 
not  like  this  stranger  to  call  Pelle  'father'';  and  when  she  was 
in  a  teasing  mood  she  would  stand  a  little  way  off  and  repeat 
again  and  again :  '^e's  not  your  father,  for  he's  mine !"  until 
Ellen  took  her  away. 

Johanna  mostly  lay,  however,  gazing  into  space  with  an 
expression  of  the  utmost  weariness.  For  a  moment  her  atten- 
tion would  be  attracted  by  anything  new,  but  then  her  eyes 
wandered  away  again.  She  was  never  well  enough  to  walk 
about;  even  when  she  felt  well,  her  legs  would  not  support  her. 
Bnm  came  out  to  'Daybreak*'  every  afternoon  to  see  her.  The 
old  man  was  deeply  affected  by  her  sad  fate,  and  had  given  up 
his  usual  holiday  trip  in  order  to  keep  himself  acquainted  with 
her  condition,  '^e  must  do  something  for  her,''  he  said  to  the 
doctor,  wno  paid  a  daily  visit  at  his  request,  '^s  there  nothing 
that  can  be  done?" 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  ''She  couldn't  be  better  off  any- 
where than  she  is  here,"  he  said. 

They  were  all  fond  of  her,  and  did  what  they  could  to  please 
her.  Brun  always  brought  something  with  him,  expensive 
things,  such  as  beautiful  silk  blankets  that  she  could  have  over 
her  when  she  lay  out  in  the  garden,  and  a  splendid  coral  neck- 
lace. He  got  her  everything  that  he  could  imagine  she  would 
like.  Her  eyes  sparkled  whenever  she  received  anything  new, 
and  she  put  everything  on.  "Now  I'm  a  princess  in  all  her 
finery,"  she  whispered,  smiling  at  him;  but  a  moment  after  she 
had  forgotten  all  about  it.  She  was  very  fond  of  the  old  man, 
made  him  sit  beside  her,  and  called  him  "grandfather"  with  s 
mournful  att^npt  at  roguishness.  She  did  not  listen  to  what  he 
told  her,  however,  and  when  the  little  ones  crept  up  and  wanted 
him  to  come  with  them  to  play  in  the  field,  he  could  quite  well 
go,  for  she  did  not  notice  it. 

Alas!  nothing  could  reconcile  her  child's  soul  to  her  poor, 
maltreated  body,  neither  love  nor  trinkets.  It  was  as  though  it 
were  weary  of  its  covering  and  had  soared  as  far  out  as  pos- 
sible, held  captive  by  a  thin  thread  that  would  easily  wear 
through.    She  grew  more  transparent  every  day;  it  could  be 


DAYBBEAK  509 

clearly  seen  now  that  she  had  the  other  children  heside  her. 
They  ate  and  throve  for  her  as  well  as  themselves !  When  Ellen 
was  not  on  the  watch,  Boy  Comfort  would  come  and  eat  up  Jo- 
hanna^s  invalid  food,  though  goodness  knew  he  wasn't  starved  I 
Johanna  herself  looked  on  calmly;  it  was  all  a  matter  of  such 
indifference  to  her. 

It  was  an  unusually  fine  summer,  dry  and  sunny,  and  they 
could  nearly  always  be  in  the  garden.  They  generally  gathered 
there  toward  evening;  Ellen  and  ^'Queen  Theresa*'  had  finished 
their  house  work,  and  sat  by  Johanna  with  their  sewing,  Brun 
kept  them  company  with  his  cheerful  talk,  and  Johanna  lay 
and  dozed  with  her  face  toward  the  garden  gate.  They  laughed 
and  joked  with  her  to  keep  her  in  good  spirits.  Brun  had  prom- 
ised her  a  trip  to  the  South  if  she  would  make  haste  to  use  her 
legs,  and  told  her  about  the  sun  down  there  and  the  delicious 
grapes  and  oranges  that  she  would  be  allowed  to  pick  herself. 
She  answered  everything  with  her  sad  smile,  as  though  she  knew 
all  too  well  what  awaited  her.  Her  thick,  dark  hair  over- 
shadowed more  and  more  her  pale  face;  it  was  as  if  night  were 
closing  over  her.  She  seemed  to  be  dozing  slowly  out  of  exist- 
ence, with  her  large  eyes  turned  toward  the  garden  gate. 

Morten  was  often  away  on  lecturing  tours,  sometimes  for 
several  days  at  a  time.  When  at  last  he  entered  the  gate,  life 
fiashed  into  her  face.  He  was  the  only  one  who  could  recall 
her  spirit  to  its  surroundings ;  it  was  as  though  it  only  lingered 
on  for  him.  She  was  no  longer  capricious  with  him.  When 
she  had  the  strength  for  it,  she  sat  up  and  threw  her  arms 
round  his  neck ;  her  tears  fiowed  silently,  and  her  longing  found 
free  vent.  Ellen  understood  the  child's  feelings,  and  signed  to 
the  others  to  leave  the  two  together.  Morten  would  then  sit  for 
hours  beside  her,  telling  her  all  that  he  had  been  doing;  she 
never  seemed  to  grow  weary,  but  lay  and  listened  to  him  with 
shining  eyes,  her  transparent  hand  resting  upon  his  arm.  Every 
step  he  took  interested  her;  sometimes  a  peculiar  expression 
came  into  her  eyes,  and  she  fell  suspiciously  upon  some  detail 
or  other.  Her  senses  were  morbidly  keen;  the  very  scent  of 
strange  people  about  him  made  her  sullen  and  suspicious. 

'TTie  poor,  poor  child !  She  loves  him !"  said  Ellen  one  day 
to  Pelle,  and  suddenly  burst  into  tears.    ''And  there  she  lies 


610  PELLE   THE   GONQUEBOB 

dying  P  Her  own  happinees  made  her  eo  folly  conscioiiB  of  the 
child's  condition. 

"^nt  dearest  EUenI''  exclaimed  Pelle  in  protest  'T)ont 
yon  think  I  can  see?  Thafs  of  course  why  she's  always  been  so 
strange  to  him.    How  sad  it  is  V 

The  child's  sad  fate  cast  a  shadow  over  the  others,  bnt  the 
snn  rose  high  in  the  heavens  and  became  still  stronger. 

^elle/'  said  Ellen,  stroking  his  hair,  ^^e  light  nights  will 
soon  be  over !" 

Morten  continued  obstinately  to  believe  that  little  Johanna 
would  recover,  but  every  one  else  could  see  distinctly  what  the 
end  was  to  be.  Her  life  oozed  away  with  the  departing  summer. 
She  became  gentler  and  more  manageable  every  day.  The 
hatred  in  her  was  extinguished ;  she  accepted  all  their  kindness 
with  a  tired  smile.  Through  her  spoiled  being  there  radiated 
a  strange  charm,  bearing  the  stamp  of  death,  which  seemed  to 
unfold  itself  the  more  as  she  drew  nearer  to  the  grave. 

Later  in  the  autumn  her  nature  changed.  Suddenly,  when 
Pelle  or  Morten  approached,  her  eyes  would  fill  with  horror  and 
she  would  open  her  mouth  to  cry  out;  but  when  she  recognised 
them,  she  nestled  down  in  their  arms,  crying  pitifully.  She 
could  no  longer  go  into  the  garden,  but  aJways  kept  her  bed. 
She  could  not  bear  the  noise  of  the  children;  it  tortured  her 
and  carried  her  thoughts  back  to  the  narrow  streets :  they  had 
to  keep  out  of  doors  all  day.  Delirious  attacks  became  more 
frequent,  and  her  thin,  languid  voice  became  once  more  rough 
and  hoarse.  She  lay  fighting  with  boys  and  roughs  and  high 
hats,  defended  herself  with  nicknames  and  abusive  epitiiets, 
and  snarled  at  every  one,  until  she  at  last  gave  in  and  ad:ed  for 
brandy,  and  lay  crying  softly  to  herself.  Old  Brun  never  dared 
show  himself  at  her  bedside;  she  took  him  for  an  old  chamber- 
lain that  the  street-boys  had  set  onto  her,  and  received  him 
with  coarse  demands. 

This  insight  into  the  child's  terrible  existence  among  the 
timber-stacks  affected  them  all.  It  seemed  as  if  the  malignity 
of  life  would  not  relax  its  hold  on  this  innocent  victim,  but 
would  persecute  her  as  long  as  life  remained,  and  made  all  their 
love  useless.  Morten  stayed  with  her  during  the  days  in  which 
she  fought  her  battle  with  death;  he  sat  watching  her  from  a 


DAYBBEAK  611 

corner^  only  ventaring  nearer  when  she  dozed.  Ellen  was  the 
only  one  who  had  the  strength  to  meet  it.  She  was  with  Jo- 
hanna night  and  day,  and  tried  to  make  death  easier  for  her 
by  her  unwearying  care ;  and  when  the  fits  came  over  the  child, 
she  held  her  in  her  arms  and  sought  to  calm  her  with  a 
mother's  love. 

She  had  never  been  in  a  death-chamber  before,  but  did  not 
quail;  and  the  child  died  upon  her  breast. 

*  *  «  *  « 

Johanna's  death  had  completely  paralyzed  Morten.  As  long 
as  he  possibly  could  he  had  clung  to  the  belief  that  her  life 
might  be  saved;  if  not,  it  would  be  so  unreasonably  imjust;  and 
when  her  hopeless  condition  became  apparent  to  him,  he  col- 
lapsed. He  did  nothing,  but  wandered  about  dully,  spoke  to  no 
one  and  ate  very  little.  It  was  as  though  he  had  received  a 
blow  on  the  head  from  a  heavy  hand. 

After  the  funeral  he  and  Pelle  walked  home  together  while 
the  others  drove.  Pelle  talked  of  indifferent  matters  in  order 
to  draw  Morten's  thoughts  away  from  the  child,  but  Morten  did 
not  listen  to  him. 

''My  dear  fellow,  you  can't  go  on  like  this,"  said  Pelle  sud- 
denly, putting  his  arm  through  Morten's.  'TTou've  accompanied 
the  poor  child  along  the  road  as  far  as  you  could,  and  the 
living  have  some  claim  on  you  too." 

Morten  raised  his  head.  ''What  does  it  matter  whether  I 
write  a  few  pages  more  or  less?"  he  said  wearily. 

"Your  pen  was  given  you  to  defend  the  defenceless  with; 
you  mustn't  give  up,"  said  Pelle. 

Morten  laughed  bitterly.  "And  haven't  I  pleaded  the  cause 
of  the  cfiildren  as  well  as  I  could,  and  been  innocent  enough  to 
believe  that  there,  at  any  rate,  it  was  only  necessary  to  open 
people's  eyes  in  order  to  touch  their  hearts?  And  what  has 
been  gained?  The  addition,  at  the  most,  of  one  more  volume 
to  the  so-called  good  literature.  Men  are  practical  beings;  you 
can  with  the  greatest  ease  get  them  to  shed  theater  tears; 
.they're  quite  fond  of  sitting  in  the  stalls  and  weeping  with  the 
imfortunate  man;  but  woe  to  him  if  they  meet  him  again  in 
the  street  1  The  warmest  words  that  have  ever  been  spoken 
to  me  about  my  descriptions  of  children  were  from  an  old  gen- 


512  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOH 

tleman  whom  I  afterward  found  to  be  trying  to  get  hold  of 
Uttle  children.** 

^ut  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?^  said  Pelle,  looking  at  him 
with  concern. 

^es,  what  am  I  going  to  do — tell  me  fliail  You're  ri^t 
in  saying  I'm  indifferent,  but  can  one  go  on  taking  part  in  a 
battle  that  doesn't  even  spare  the  children  ?  Do  you  remember 
my  little  sister  Karen,  who  had  to  drown  herself?  How  many 
thousand  children  are  there  not  standing  behind  her  and  Jo- 
hanna !  l^ey  call  this  the  children's  century,  and  the  children's 
blood  is  crying  out  from  the  earth !  They're  happy  when  they 
can  steal  away.  Fancy  if  Johanna  had  lived  on  with  her  bur- 
den! The  shadows  of  childhood  stretch  over  the  whole  of 
life." 

'?es,  and  so  does  the  sunshine  of  childhood!"  exclaimed 
Pelle.  'Tliaf s  why  we  mustn't  fail  the  poor  little  ones.  We 
shall  need  a  race  with  warm  hearts." 

'TPhaf  s  just  what  I've  thought,"  said  Morten  sadly.  **Do 
you  know,  Pelle,  I  loved  that  child  who  came  to  me  from  tiie 
very  lowest  depth.  She  was  everything  to  me ;  misery  has  never 
come  so  cruelly  near  to  me  before.  It  was  a  beautiful  dream  of 
mine — a  foolish  dream — ^that  she  would  live.  I  was  going  to 
coax  life  and  happiness  into  her  again,  and  then  I  would  have 
written  a  book  about  all  that  triumphs.  I  don't  know  whether 
you  understand  me — about  misery  that  becomes  health  and  hap- 
piness beneath  the  sunshine  of  kindness.  She  was  that;  life 
could  hardly  be  brought  lower  1  But  did  you  notice  how  much 
beauty  and  delicacy  there  was  after  all  buried  beneath  the 
sewer-mud  in  her?  I  had  looked  forward  to  bringing  it  out, 
freed  from  all  want  and  ugliness,  and  showing  the  world  how 
beautiful  we  are  down  here  when  the  mud  is  scraped  off  us. 
Perhaps  it  might  have  induced  them  to  act  justly.  Thaf  s  what 
I  dreamed,  but  it's  a  bitter  lot  to  have  the  imfortunates  ap* 
pointed  to  be  one's  beloved.  My  only  love  is  irretrievably  dead, 
and  now  I  cannot  write  about  anything  that  triumphs.  What 
have  I  to  do  with  that?" 

^  think  if  s  Victor  Hugo  who  says  that  the  heart  is  the 
only  bird  that  carries  its  cage,"  said  Pelle,  'T)ut  your  heart  re- 
fuses to  take  it  when  there  is  most  use  for  it." 


DAYBHEAS:  513 

^Oh^  no  I^  said  Morten  with  a  little  more  energy.  ^  shan^ 
desert  you;  but  this  has  been  a  hard  blow  for  me.  If  only  I 
had  a  little  more  of  your  clear  faith  I  Well^  I  must  be  glad  that 
I  have  you  yourself/'  he  added,  holding  out  his  hand  to  Pelle 
with  a  bright  smile. 

The  librarian  came  across  the  fields  to  meet  them,  '^t's 
taken  you  two  Dioscuri  a  long  time/'  he  said,  looking  at  them 
attentively.    **Ellen's  waiting  with  tiie  dinner.'* 

The  three  men  walked  together  up  the  bare  stubblefield 
toward  the  house.  **The  best  of  the  summer's  over  now/'  said 
Brun,  looking  about  with  a  sigh.  ''The  wheel  has  turned  on  one 
more  cog  I" 

''Death  isnt  the  worst  thing  that  can  happen  to  one/'  an- 
swered Morten,  who  was  still  in  a  morbid  mood. 

"Thaf  s  the  sort  of  thing  one  says  while  one's  young  and 
prosperous — and  doesn't  mean  seriously.  To-morrow  life  will 
have  taken  you  and  your  sorrow  into  its  service  again.  But  I 
have  never  been  young  until  now  that  I've  learned  to  know  you 
two,  so  I  count  every  fleeting  hour  like  a  miser — and  envy  you 
who  can  walk  so  quickly,"  he  added  with  a  smile. 

They  walked  up  more  slowly,  and  as  they  followed  the  hedge 
up  toward  the  house  they  heard  a  faint  whimpering  in  the  gar- 
den. In  a  hole  in  an  empty  bed,  which  the  two  children  had 
dug  with  their  spades,  sat  Boy  Comfort,  and  Sister  was  busy 
covering  him  with  earth;  it  was  already  up  to  his  neck.  He 
was  making  no  resistance,  but  only  whimpered  a  little  when 
the  mould  began  to  get  near  his  moutii. 

Pelle  gave  the  alarm  and  leaped  the  hedge,  and  Ellen  at  the 
same  moment  came  running  out.  "You  might  have  suffocated 
little  brother!"  she  said  with  consternation,  taking  the  boy  in 
her  arms. 

"I  was  only  planting  him,"  said  Anna,  offended  at  having 
her  work  deslroyed.  "He  wanted  to  be,  and  of  course  he'd 
come  up  again  in  the  spring!"  The  two  children  wanted  a 
little  brother,  and  had  agreed  that  Boy  Comfort  should  sacrifice 
himself. 

"You  mustn't  do  such  things,"  said  Ellen  quietly.  "You'll 
get  a  little  brother  in  the  spring  anyhow."  And  she  looked  at 
Pelle  with  a  loving  glance. 


XV 

WoBK  went  on  steadily  in  the  cooperatiTe  works.  It  made 
no  great  stir;  in  the  Movement  they  had  aknost  forgotten  that 
it  existed  at  alL  It  was  a  long  and  difScult  road  that  Pelle  had 
set  ont  on,  but  he  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that  it  led  to  the 
end  he  had  in  view^  and  he  set  about  it  seriously.  Neyer  had 
his  respiration  been  so  slow. 

At  present  he  was  gaining  experience.  He  and  Peter  Dreyer 
had  trained  a  staff  of  good  workmen,  who  knew  what  was  at 
stake,  and  did  not  allow  themselves  to  be  upset  even  if  a  foreign 
element  entered.  The  business  increased  steadily  and  required 
new  men;  but  Pelle  had  no  difficulty  with  the  new  forces;  the 
undertaking  was  so  strong  that  it  swallowed  them  and  remod- 
elled them. 

The  manufacturers  at  any  rate  remembered  his  existence, 
and  tried  to  injure  him  at  every  opportunity.  This  pleased  him, 
for  it  established  the  fact  tiiat  he  was  a  danger  to  them. 
Through  their  connections  they  closed  credit,  and  when  this 
did  not  lead  to  anything,  because  he  had  Brunts  fortune  to 
back  him  up,  they  boycotted  him  with  regard  to  materials  by 
forcing  the  leather-merchants  not  to  sell  to  him.  He  then  had 
to  import  his  materials  from  abroad.  It  gave  him  a  little  extra 
trouble,  and  now  it  was  necessary  to  have  everything  in  order^ 
so  that  they  should  not  come  to  a  standstill  for  want  of 
anything. 

One  day  an  article  was  lacking  in  a  new  consignment,  and 
the  whole  thing  was  about  to  come  to  a  standstill.  He  man- 
aged to  obtain  it  by  stratagem,  but  he  was  angry.  ^  should 
like  to  hit  those  leather-merchants  back,''  he  said  to  Brun.  ^ 
we  happen  to  be  in  want  of  anything,  we're  obliged  to  get  it  by 
cunning.    Don't  you  think  we  might  take  the  diop  next  doer, 

514 


DAYBBBAK  615 

and  set  up  a  leather  business  ?  It  would  be  a  blow  to  the  other^y 
and  then  we  should  always  have  what  we  want  to  use.  We 
shoxdda't  get  rich  on  it^  so  I  think  the  small  masters  in  out-of- 
the-way  comers  would  be  glad  to  have  us/* 

Brun  had  no  objection  to  making  a  little  more  war  to  the 
knife.    There  was  too  little  happening  for  his  taste  I 

The  new  business  opened  in  October.  Pelle  would  have  had 
Peter  Dreyer  to  be  at  the  head  of  it,  but  he  refused.  'Tm  sure 
I'm  not  suited  for  buying  and  selling/'  he  said  gloomily^  so 
Pelle  took  one  of  the  young  workmen  from  the  workshop  into 
the  business^  and  kept  an  eye  up(m  it  himself. 

It  at  once  put  a  little  more  life  into  things;  there  was 
always  plenty  of  material.  They  now  produced  much  more  than 
they  were  able  to  sell  in  the  shop,  and  Pelle's  leather  shop  made 
the  small  masters  independent  of  private  capital.  Many  of 
them  sold  a  little  factory  foot-wear  in  addition  to  doing  repairs, 
and  these  now  took  their  goods  from  him.  Out  in  the  provinces 
his  boots  and  shoes  had  already  gained  a  footing  in  many 
places;  it  had  come  about  naturally,  in  the  ordinary  sequence 
of  things.  The  manufacturers  followed  them  up  there  too, 
wherever  they  could;  but  the  consequence  was  that  the  workmen 
patronized  them  and  forced  them  in  again  to  the  shops  of  which 
they  themselves  were  the  customers.  A  battle  began  to  rage 
over  Pell's  boots  and  shoes. 

He  knew,  however,  that  it  was  only  the  beginning.  It  would 
soon  come  to  a  great  conflict,  and  were  his  foundations  fiu£Di- 
ciently  strong  for  that?  The  manufacturers  were  establishing  a 
shop  opposite  his,  where  the  goods  were  to  be  sold  cheap  in  order 
to  ruin  his  sales,  and  one  day  they  put  the  prices  very  much 
down  on  everything,  so  as  to  extinguish  him  altogether. 

*Tjet  them  1"  said  Brun.  'Teople  will  be  able  to  get  shoes 
cheap!"  Pelle  was  troubled,  however,  at  this  fresh  attack. 
Even  if  they  held  out^  it  might  well  exhaust  their  economic 
strength. 

The  misfortune  was  that  thqr  were  too  isolated ;  they  were 
as  yet  like  men*  washed  up  onto  an  open  shore ;  they  had  nothing 
to  fall  back  upon.  The  employers  had  long  since  discovered 
that  they  were  just  as  international  as  the  workmen,  and  had 
adopted  Pelle's  old  organization  idea.    It  was  not  always  easy. 


616  PELLE   THE   CONQTJEROB 

either^  to  get  materials  from  abroad ;  he  noticed  the  coimeetioiL 
Until  he  had  got  the  tanners  to  start  a  cooperative  business,  he 
ran  the  risk  of  having  his  feet  knocked  away  from  under  him 
at  any  moment.  And  in  the  first  place  he  must  have  the  great 
army  of  workmen  on  his  side;  that  was  whither  everything 
pointed. 

One  day  he  found  himself  once  more  after  many  years  on 
the  lecturer's  platform,  giving  his  first  lecture  on  cooperation. 
It  was  very  strange  to  stand  once  more  before  his  own  people 
and  feel  their  faces  turned  toward  him.  At  present  they  looked 
upon  him  as  one  who  had  come  from  abroad  with  new  ideas,  or 
perhaps  only  a  new  invention;  but  he  meant  to  win  them! 
Their  very  slowness  promised  well  when  once  it  was  overcome. 
He  knew  them  again ;  they  were  difficult  to  get  started,  but  once 
started  could  hardly  be  stopped  again.  If  his  idea  got  proper 
hold  of  these  men  with  their  huge  organizations  and  firm  disci- 
pline, it  would  be  insuperable.  He  entered  with  heart  and  soul 
into  the  agitation,  and  gave  a  lecture  every  week  in  a  political 
or  trade  association. 

'Telle,  how  busy  you  are !''  said  Ellen,  when  he  came  home. 
Her  condition  filled  him  with  happiness ;  it  was  like  a  seal  upon 
their  new  union.  She  had  withdrawn  a  little  more  into  herself, 
and  over  her  face  and  figure  there  was  thrown  a  touch  of  dreamy 
gentleness.  She  met  him  at  the  gate  now  a  little  helpless  and 
remote — a  young  mother,  to  be  touched  with  careful  hsmds.  He 
saw  her  thriving  from  day  to  day,  and  had  a  happy  feeling  that 
things  were  growing  for  him  on  all  sides. 

They  did  not  see  much  of  Morten.  He  was  passing  through 
a  crisis,  and  preferred  to  be  by  himself.  He  was  always  com- 
plaining that  he  could  not  get  on  with  his  work.  Everything 
he  began,  no  matter  how  small,  stuck  fast. 

''That's  because  you  don't  believe  in  it  any  longer,**  said 
Pelle.  ''He  who  doubts  in  his  work  cuts  through  the  brandi 
upon  which  he  is  himself  sitting." 

Morten  listened  to  him  with  an  expression  of  weariness. 
"It's  much  more  than  that,"  he  said,  "for  ifs  .the  men  than- 
selves  I  doubt,  Pelle.  I  feel  cold  and  haven't  been  able  to  find 
out  why;  but  now  I  know.  Ifs  because  men  have  no  heart 
Everything  growing  is  dependent  upon  warmth,  but  the  whole 


DAYBBEAK  517 

of  our  culture  is  built  upon  coldness,  and  that's  why  ifs  so 
cold  here/' 

'The  poor  people  have  a  heart  though/*  said  Pelle.  *T[t*8 
that  and  not  common  sense  that  keeps  them  up.  If  they  hadn't 
they'd  -have  gone  to  ruin  long  ago — simply  become  animals. 
Why  haven't  they,  with  all  their  misery?  Why  does  the  very 
sewer  give  birth  to  bright  beings?" 

**Tes,  the  poor  people  warm  one  another,  but  they're  blue 
with  cold  all  the  samel  And  shouldn't  one  rather  wish  that 
they  had  no  heart  to  be  burdened  with  in  a  community  thaf  s 
frozen  to  the  very  bottom  ?  I  envy  those  who  can  look  at  misery 
from  a  historical  point  of  view  and  comfort  themselves  with  the 
future.  I  think  myself  that  the  good  will  some  day  conquer, 
but  ifs  nevertheless  fearfully  unreasonable  that  millions  shall 
first  go  joyless  to  the  grave  in  the  battle  to  overcome  a  folly. 
I'm  an  irreconcilable,  thafs  what  it  is!  My  mind  has  ar- 
ranged itself  for  other  conditions,  and  therefore  I  suffer  under 
those  that  exist.  Even  so  ordinary  a  thing  as  to  receive  money 
causes  me  suffering.  Ifs  mine,  but  I  can't  help  following  it 
back  in  my  thoughts.  What  want  has  been  caused  by  its  pass- 
ing into  my  hands?  How  much  distress  and  weeping  may  be 
associated  with  it?  And  when  I  pay  it  out  again  I'm  always 
troubled  to  think  that  those  who've  helped  me  get  too  little — 
my  washerwoman  and  the  others.  They  can  scarcely  live,  and 
the  fault  is  mine  among  others !  Then  my  thoughts  set  about 
finding  out  the  others'  wants  and  I  get  no  peace;  every  time  I 
put  a  bit  of  bread  into  my  mouth,  or  see  the  stores  in  the  shops, 
I  can't  help  thinking  of  those  who  are  starving.  I  suffer  ter- 
ribly through  not  being  able  to  alter  conditions  of  which  the 
folly  is  so  apparent.  It's  of  no  use  for  me  to  put  it  down  to 
morbidness,  for  ifs  not  that;  it's  a  forestalling  in  myself.  We 
must  all  go  that  way  some  day,  if  the  oppressed  do  not  rise 
before  then  and  turn  the  point  upward.  You  see  I'm  con- 
demned to  live  in  all  the  others'  miseries,  and  my  own  life  has 
not  been  exactly  rich  in  sunshine.  Think  of  my  childhood,  how 
joyless  it  was!  I  haven't  your  fund  to  draw  from,  Pelle,  re- 
member that!" 

No,  there  had  not  been  much  sunshine  on  Morten's  path, 
and  now  he  cowered  and  shivered  with  cold. 


518  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

One  evenings  however,  he  rushed  into  the  sitting-room,  wav- 
ing a  sheet  of  paper.  *^*ve  received  a  legacy,**  he  cried.  **To- 
morrow  morning  I  shall  start  for  the  South.** 

*^ut  youTl  have  to  arrange  your  affairs  first,**  said  Pelle. 

"Arrange?**  Morten  laughed.  "Oh,  no!  You*re  always 
ready  to  start  on  a  journey.  All  my  life  I*ve  been  ready  for 
a  tour  round  the  world  at  an  hour*8  notice  1**  He  walked  to 
and  fro,  rubbing  his  hands.  "Ah,  now  I  shall  drink  the  sun- 
shine— ^let  myself  be  baked  through  and  through  I  I  think  ifll 
be  good  for  my  chest  to  hop  over  a  winter.** 

"How  far  are  you  going?**  asked  Ellen,  with  shining  eyes. 

"To  Southern  Italy  and  Spain.  I  want  to  go  to  a  place 
where  the  cold  doesn*t  pull  off  the  coats  of  thousands  while  it 
helps  you  on  with  your  furs.  And  then  I  want  to  see  people 
who  haven*t  had  a  share  in  the  blessings  of  mechanical  culture, 
but  upon  whom  the  sun  has  shone  to  make  up  for  it — sunshine- 
beings  like  little  Johanna  and  her  mother  and  grandmother,  but 
who*ve  been  allowed  to  live.  Oh,  how  nice  it*ll  be  to  see  for 
once  poor  people  who  aren*t  cold  !** 

"tfust  let  him  get  off  as  quickly  as  possible,**  said  Ellen, 
when  Morten  had  gone  up  to  pack;  '^or  if  he  once  gets  the 
poor  into  his  mind,  it*ll  aU  come  to  nothing.  I  expect  I  shall 
put  a  few  of  your  socks  and  a  little  xmderclothing  into  his 
trunk;  he*s  got  no  change.  If  only  hell  see  that  his  tilings  go 
to  the  wash,  and  that  they  don*t  ruin  them  with  chlorine  I** 

'^on*t  you  think  you*d  better  look  after  him  a  little  while  he*8 
packing?**  asked  Pelle.  "Or  else  I*m  afraid  he*ll  not  take  what 
he*ll  r^y  want.   Morten  would  sometimes  forget  his  own  head.** 

Ellen  went  upstairs  with  the  things  she  had  looked  out.  It 
was  fortunate  that  she  did  so,  for  Morten  had  packed  his  tnmk 
quite  full  of  books,  and  laid  the  necessary  things  aside.  When 
she  took  everything  out  and  began  all  over  again,  he  fidgeted 
about  and  was  quite  unhappy;  it  had  been  arranged  so  nicely, 
the  fiction  all  together  in  one  place,  the  proletariat  writings  in 
another;  he  could  have  put  his  hand  in  and  taken  out  anything 
he  wanted.  But  Ellen  had  no  mercy.  Everything  had  to  be 
emptied  onto  the  fioor,  and  he  had  to  bring  every  stitdi  of 
clothing  he  possessed  and  lay  them  on  chairs,  whence  she  se- 
lected the  necessary  garments.    At  each  one  that  was  placed  in 


PAYBBEAK  619 

the  trunks  Morten  protested  meekly:  it  really  could  not  be 
worth  while  to  take  socks  with  him^  nor  yet  several  changes  of 
linen;  you  simply  bought  them  as  you  required  them.  Indeed? 
Could  it  not?  But  it  was  worth  while  lugging  about  a  big 
trunk  full  of  useless  books  like  any  colporteur^  was  it? 

Ellen  was  on  her  knees  before  the  trunks  and  was  getting  on 
with  her  task.  Pelle  came  up  and  stood  leaning  against  the 
door-jamb^  looking  at  them.  '^Thafs  right  1  Just  give  him  a 
coating  of  paint  that  will  last  till  he  gets  home  again  I''  he  said, 
laughing.    '*He  may  need  it  badly.'* 

Morten  sat  upon  a  chair  looking  crestfallen.  ^Thank  good- 
ness, I'm  not  married  !**  he  said.  '*][  really  begin  to  be  sorry  for 
you,  Pelle.''  It  was  evident  that  he  was  enjoying  being  looked 
after. 

'?es,  now  you  can  see  what  a  domestic  affliction  I  have  to 
bear,"  Pelle  answered  gravely. 

Ellen  let  them  talk.  The  trunk  was  now  cram  full,  and  she 
had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  he  would  not  be  going 
about  like  a  tramp.  There  were  only  his  toilet  articles  left  now; 
even  those  he  had  forgotten.  She  drew  a  huge  volume  out  of 
the  pocket  for  these  articles  inside  the  lid  of  the  trunk  to  make 
room  for  his  washing  things;  but  at  that  Morten  sprang  for- 
ward. ^T.  must  have  that  with  me,  whatever  else  is  Irft  out,"  he 
said  with  determination.  It  was  Victor  Hugo's  *TLes  Mis6r- 
ables,"  Morten's  Bible. 

Ellen  opened  it  at  the  title-page  to  see  if  it  really  was  so 
necessary  to  travel  about  with  such  a  monster;  it  was  as  big  as 
a  loaf. 

'^There's  no  room  for  it,"  she  declared,  and  quietly  laid  it  on 
one  side,  ''that's  to  say  if  you  want  things  to  wash  yourself 
with;  and  you're  sure  to  meet  plenty  of  unhappy  people  wher- 
ever you  go,  for  there's  always  enough  of  them  everywhere." 

''Then  perhaps  Madam  will  not  permit  me  to  take  my 
writing  things  with  me?''  questioned  Morten,  in  a  tone  of  sup- 
plication. 

"Oh,  yes  I"  answered  Ellen,  laughing,  "and  you  may  use 
them  too,  to  do  something  beautiful — ^thaf s  to  say  if  it's  us 
poor  people  you're  writing  for.  There's  sorrow  and  misery 
enough  I" 


620  PELLE  THE   CONQUEEOB 

''When  the  sun's  shone  properly  upon  me,  111  come  home  and 
write  you  a  book  about  it/'  said  Morten  seriously. 

The  following  day  was  Sunday.  Mori;en  was  up  eariy  and 
went  out  to  the  churchyard.  He  was  gone  a  long  time,  and 
they  waited  breakfast  for  him.  **He'8  coming  now  !**  cried  Lasse 
Frederik,  who  had  been  up  to  the  hill  farm  for  milk.  ^  saw 
him  down  in  the  field.'' 

*Tlien  we  can  put  the  eggs  on,"  said  Ellen  to  Sister,  who 
helped  her  a  little  in  the  kitchen. 

Morten  was  in  a  solemn  mood.  ''The  roses  on  Johanna's 
grave  have  been  picked  again,"  he  said.  "I  can't  imagine  how 
any  one  can  have  the  heart  to  rob  the  dead;  they  are  really  the 
poorest  of  us  all." 

Tm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that!"  exclaimed  Pelle.  "A 
month  ago  you  thought  the  dead  were  the  only  ones  who  were 
well  ofif." 

"You're  a  rock !"  said  Morten,  smiling  and  putting  his  hands 
on  the  other's  shoulders.  "If  everything  else  were  to  change^ 
we  should  always  know  where  you  were  to  be  found." 

"Come  to  table !"  cried  Ellen,  "but  at  once,  or  the  surprise 
will  be  cold."  She  stood  waiting  with  a  covered  dish  in  her 
hand. 

"Why,  I  believe  you've  got  new-laid  eggs  there !"  exclaimed 
Pelle,  in  astonishment. 

"Yes,  the  hens  have  begun  to  lay  again  the  last  few  days. 
It  must  be  in  Morten's  honor." 

"No,  if  s  in  honor  of  the  fine  weather,  and  because  they're 
allowed  to  run  about  anywhere  now,"  said  Lasse  Frederik. 

Morten  laughed.  "Lasse  Frederik's  an  incorrigible  realist," 
he  said.    "Life  needs  no  adornment  for  him." 

Ellen  looked  well  after  Morten.  "Now  you  must  make  a 
good  breakfast,"  she  said.  "You  can't  be  sure  youll  get  proper 
food  out  there  in  foreign  countries."  She  was  thinking  with 
horror  of  the  messes  her  lodgers  in  the  "Palace"  had  put  to- 
gether. 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door,  the  trunk  was  put  up  beside 
the  driver,  and  Morten  and  Pelle  got  into  the  carriage,  not 
before  it  was  time  either.  They  started  at  a  good  pace,  Lasse 
Frederik  and  Sister  each  standing  on  a  step  all  the  way  down 


DAYBBEAK  621 

to  the  main  road.  Up  at  the  gable  window  Ellen  stood  and 
waved,  holding  Boy  Comfort  by  the  hand. 

*^t  must  be  strange  to  go  away  from  everything/'  said  Pelle, 

**Tes,  it  might  be  strange  for  you/'  answered  Morten,  taking 
a  last  look  at  Pelle's  home,  '^ut  I'm  not  going  away  from 
anything ;  on  the  contrary,  I'm  going  to  meet  things." 

^?t11  be  strange  at  any  rate  not  having  you  walking  about 
overhead  any  more,  especially  for  Ellen  and  the  children.  But 
I  suppose  we  shall  hear  from  you?" 

"Oh,  yes !  and  youll  let  me  hear  how  your  business  gets  on, 
won't  you?" 

The  train  started.  Pelle  felt  his  heart  contract  as  he  stood 
and  gazed  after  it,  feeling  as  though  it  were  taking  part  of  him 
with  it.  It  had  always  been  a  dream  of  his  to  go  out  and  see  a 
little  of  the  world;  ever  since  ''Garibaldi"  had  appeared  in  the 
little  workshop  at  home  in  the  provincial  town  he  had  looked 
forward  to  it.  Now  Morten  was  going,  but  he  himself  would 
never  get  away ;  he  must  be  content  with  the  ''journey  abroad" 
he  had  had.  For  a  moment  Pelle  stood  looking  along  the  lines 
where  the  train  had  disappeared,  with  his  thoughts  far  away  in 
melancholy  dreams;  then  he  woke  up  and  discovered  that  with- 
out intending  it  he  had  been  feeling  his  home  a  clog  upon  his 
feet.  And  there  were  Ellen  and  the  children  at  home  watching 
for  his  coming,  while  he  stood  here  and  dreamed  himself  away 
from  them !  They  would  do  nothing  until  he  came,  for  Sunday 
was  his  day,  the  only  day  they  really  had  him.  He  hurried  out 
and  jumped  onto  a  tram. 

As  he  leaped  over  the  ditch  into  the  field  at  the  tramway 
terminus,  he  caught  sight  of  Brun  a  little  farther  along  the 
path.  The  old  librarian  was  toiling  up  the  hill,  his  asthma 
making  him  pause  every  now  and  then.  "He's  on  his  way  to 
us!"  said  Pelle  to  himself,  touched  ^t  the  thought;  it  had  not 
struck  him  before  how  toilsome  this  walk  over  ploughed  fields 
and  along  bad  roads  must  be  for  the  old  man ;  and  yet  he  did  it 
several  times  in  the  week  to  come  out  and  see  them. 

"Well,  here  I  am  again  I"  said  Brun.  "I  only  hope  you're 
not  getting  tired  of  me." 

"There's  no  danger  of  that  1"  answered  Pelle,  taking  his  arm 
to  help  him  up  the  hill.    "The  children  are  quite  silly  about  you !" 


522  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

'TTes,  the  children — ^I*m  safe  enough  with  them,  and  with 
you  too,  Pelle;  but  your  wife  makes  me  a  little  uncertain.'' 

'^Ellen's  rather  reserved,  but  ifs  only  her  manner;  she's  very 
fond  of  you,"  said  Pelle  warmly.  **Any  one  who  takes  the  chil- 
dren on  his  knee  wins  Ellen's  heart.^ 

**Do  you  really  think  so?  I've  always  despised  woman  be- 
cause she  lacks  personality — ^until  I  got  to  know  your  wife. 
She's  an  exceptional  wife  you've  got,  Pelle;  hers  is  a  strong 
nature,  so  strong  that  she  makes  me  uncertain.  Coiddnt  you 
get  her  to  leave  oflF  calling  me  Mr.  Brun?" 

'TU  teU  her,"  said  PeUe,  laughing;  'T)ut  I'm  not  sure  itTl 
be  of  any  use." 

^TThis  Mr.  Brun  is  beginning  to  be  an  intolerable  person,  let 
me  tell  you;  and  in  your  house  I  should  like  to  get  away  from 
him.  Just  imagine  what  it  means  to  be  burdened  all  your  life 
with  a  gentleman  like  that,  who  doesn't  stand  in  close  rela- 
tionship to  anybody  at  all.  Others  are  called  'Father,'  *6rand- 
father' — something  or  other  human;  but  all  conditions  of  life 
dispose  of  me  with  a  *Mr.  Brun'!  Thank  you,  Mr.  BrunP 
'Many  thanks,  Mr.  Brun  I' "  The  old  man  had  worked  himself 
up,  and  made  the  name  a  caricature. 

'These  are  bad  roads  out  here,"  he  said  suddenly,  stopping 
to  take  breath.  "It's  incomprehensible  that  these  fields  should 
be  allowed  to  lie  here  just  outside  the  town — ^that  speculation 
hasnt  got  hold  of  them." 

"I  suppose  if  s  because  of  the  boggy  ground  down  there," 
said  Pelle.  'They've  begun  to  fill  it  in,  however,  at  the  nortii 
end,  I  see." 

Brun  peered  in  that  direction  with  some  interest,  but  gave 
it  up,  shaking  his  head. 

"No,  I  can't  see  so  far  without  glasses;  thafs  another  of  the 
blessings  bestowed  by  books.  Yes,  it  is  I  Old  people  in  the 
country  only  make  use  of  spectacles  when  they  want  to  look  at 
a  book,  but  I  have  to  resort  to  them  when  I  want  to  find  my 
way  about  the  world:  that  makes  a  great  difference.  Ifs  tb^ 
fault  of  the  streets  and  those  stupid  books  that  I'm  short- 
sighted; you  don't  get  any  outlook  if  you  dont  live  in  the 
country.  The  town  shuts  up  all  your  senses,  and  the  books  take 
you  away  from  life;  so  I'm  thinking  of  moving  out  too." 


DAYBEEAK  623 

*1s  that  wise  now  just  before  the  winter?  It  wouldn't  do 
for  you  to  go  in  and  out  in  all  kinds  of  weather/' 

'Then  I'll  give  up  the  library/'  answered  Brun.  ^T.  shan't 
miss  it  mufeh ;  I've  spent  enough  of  my  life  there.  Fancy^  Pelle  1 
it  occurred  to  me  last  night  that  I'd  helped  to  catalogue  most  of 
the  literature  of  the  worlds  but  haven't  even  seen  a  baby  dressed  I 
What  right  have  people  like  me  to  have  an  opinion  ?" 

*T[  can't  understand  that,"  said  Pelle.  ''Books  have  given 
me  so  much  help." 

"Yes,  because  you  had  the  real  thing.  If  I  were  young,  I 
would  go  out  and  set  to  work  with  my  hands.  I've  missed  more 
through  never  having  worked  with  my  body  till  I 'was  hot  and 
tired,  than  you  have  through  not  Imowing  the  great  classic 
writers.  I'm  discovering  my  own  poverty,  Pelle;  and  I  would 
willingly  exchange  everything  for  a  place  as  grandfather  by  a 
cozy  fireside." 

The  children  came  running  across  the  field.'  "Have  you  got 
anything  for  us  to-day?"  they  cried  from  a  long  distance, 

'TTes,  but  not  until  we  get  into  the  warmth.  I  daren't  un- 
button my  coat  out  here  because  of  my  cough." 

"Well,  but  you  walk  so  slowly,"  said  Boy  Comfort  "Is  it 
because  you're  so  old?" 

"Yes,  thaf s  it,"  answered  the  old  man,  laughing.  "You 
must  exercise  a  little  patience." 

Patience,  however,  was  a  thing  of  which  the  children  pos- 
sessed little,  and  they  seized  hold  of  his  coat  and  pulled  him 
along.    He  was  quite  out  of  breath  when  they  reached  the  house. 

Ellen  looked  severely  at  the  children,  but  said  nothing.  She 
helped  Brun  off  with  his  coat  and  neckerchief,  and  after  seeing 
Tiinn  comfortably  seated  in  the  sitting-room,  went  out  into  the 
kitchen.  Pelle  guessed  there  was  something  she  wanted  to  say 
to  him,  and  followed  her. 

'Telle,"  she  said  gravely,  "the  children  are  much  too  free 
with  Mr.  Brun.    I  can't  think  how  you  can  let  them  do  it." 

"Well,  but  he  likes  it,  Ellen,  or  of  course  I  should  stop  them. 
Ifs  just  what  he  likes.  And  do  you  know  what  I  think  he 
would  like  still  better  ?    If  you  would  ask  him  to  live  with  us." 

"That  I'll  never  do  1"  declared  Ellen  decidedly.  "It  would 
look  so  extraordinary  of  me." 


524  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

^ut  if  he  wAnts  a  homey  and  likes  us?  He's  got  no  friends 
bntns.'' 

No — no,  EDen  could  not  nnderstand  that  all  fbe  same,  with 
the  little  they  had  to  offer.  And  Bmn,  who  conid  afford  to 
pay  for  all  the  comforts  that  oonld  be  had  for  money!  Tf  he 
came,  I  should  have  to  have  new  table-linen  at  any  rate,  and 
good  carpets  on  the  floors,  and  lots  of  other  things.'' 

^ou  can  have  them  too,''  said  Pelle.  ^Of  course  well  have 
everything  as  nice  as  we  can,  though  Bran's  quite  as  easily 
pleased  as  we  are." 

That  might  be  so,  but  Ellen  was  the  mistress  of  the  house, 
and  there  were  things  she  could  not  let  go.  *^  Mr.  Brun 
would  like  to  live  with  us,  he  shall  be  made  comfortably"  she 
said ;  ^ut  ifs  funny  he  doesn't  propose  it  himself,  for  be  can 
do  it  much  better  than  we  can." 

^0,  it  must  come  from  us — ^from  you,  Ellen.  He's  a  little 
afraid  of  you." 

^Of  me  ?"  exclaimed  Ellen,  in  dismay.  ^And  I  who  would — 
why,  there's  no  one  I'd  sooner  be  kind  to!  Then  111  say  it, 
Pelle,  but  not  just  now."  She  put  up  her  hands  to  her  &ce, 
which  was  glowing  with  pleasure  and  confusion  at  the  thought 
that  her  little  home  was  worth  so  much. 

Pelle  went  back  to  the  sitting-room.  Brun  was  sitting  on 
the  sofa  with  Boy  Comfort  on  his  knee,  '^e's  a  r^ular  little 
urchin  I"  he  said,  ^ut  he's  not  at  all  like  his  mother.  He's 
got  your  features  all  through." 

'^llen  isn't  his  mother,"  said  Pelle,  in  a  low  voice. 

^Oh,  isn't  she !  Ifs  funny  that  he  shoidd  have  those  three 
wrinkles  in  his  forehead  like  you;  they're  like  the  wave-lines 
in  the  countenance  of  Denmark.  You  both  look  as  if  you  were 
always  angry." 

"So  we  were  at  that  time,"  said  PeDe. 

'Talking  of  anger" — ^Brun  went  on — ^Hi  applied  to  the  police 
authorities  yesterday,  and  got  them  to  promise  to  give  up  their 
persecution  of  Peter  Dreyer,  on  condition  that  he  ceases  his 
agitation  among  the  soldiers." 

'^e  shall  never  get  him  to  agree  to  that;  it  would  be  the 
same  thing  as  requiring  him  to  swear  away  his  rights  as  a  man. 
He  has  taught  himself,  by  a  great  effort,  to  use  parliamentary 


DAYBREAE:  626 

expressions,  and  nobody'll  ever  get  him  to  do  more.  In  the 
matter  of  tiie  Cause  itself  he^  never  yield,  and  there  I  agree 
with  him.  If  you  mayn't  even  fight  the  existing  conditions  with 
spiritual  weapons,  there'll  be  an  end  of  everything/' 

'TTes,  thaf  s  true,"  said  Brun,  "only  I'm  sorry  for  him.  The 
police  keep  him  in  a  perpetual  state  of  inflammation.  He  can't 
hav«  any  pleasure  in  life." 


XVI 

Pbllb  was  always  hoping  that  Peter  Dreyer  would  acquire  a 
cahner  view  of  life.  It  was  his  intention  to  start  a  cooperatiye 
business  in  the  course  of  the  spring  at  Aarhns  too,  and  Peter 
was  appointed  to  start  it.  But  his  spirit  seemed  incurable; 
every  time  he  calmed  down  a  little,  conditions  roused  him  to 
Antagonism  again.  This  time  it  was  the  increase  of  unemploy- 
ment that  touched  him. 

The  senseless  persecution,  moreover,  kept  him  in  a  state  of 
perpetual  irritation.  Even  when  he  was  left  alone,  as  now,  he 
had  the  feeling  that  they  were  wondering  how  they  could  get 
him  to  blunder — ^apparently  closed  their  eyes  in  order  to  come 
down  upon  him  with  all  the  more  force.  He  never  knew 
whether  he  was  bought  or  sold. 

The  business  was  now  so  large  that  they  had  to  move  the 
actual  factory  into  the  back  building,  and  take  the  whole  of  the 
basement  for  the  repairing  workshop.  Peter  Dreyer  managed 
this  workshop,  and  tiiere  was  no  fault  to  find  with  his  manage- 
ment; he  was  energetic  and  vigilant.  He  was  not  capable, 
however,  of  managing  work  on  a  large  scale,  for  his  mind  was  in 
constant  oscillation.  In  spite  of  his  abilities  he  was  burning  to 
no  purpose. 

'^e  might  drop  his  agitation  and  take  up  something  more 
useful,**  said  Brun,  one  evening  when  he  and  Pelle  sat  dis- 
cussing the  matter.  ''Nothing's  accomplished  by  violence  any- 
how I  And  he*s  only  running  his  head  against  a  brick  wall  him- 
self!** 

'*Tou  didn*t  think  so  some  time  ago,**  said  Pelle.  It  was 
Brun*s  pamphlets  on  the  rights  of  the  individual  that  had  first 
roused  Peter  Dreyer*s  attention. 

626 


DAYBEEAK  627 

^^0,  I  know  that.  I  once  thought  that  the  whole  thing 
must  be  smashed  to  pieces  in  order  that  a  new  world  might 
arise  out  of  chaos.  I  didn't  know  you^  and  I  didn't  think  my 
own  class  too  good  to  be  tossed  aside;  tiiey  were  only  hindering 
the  development.  But  you've  converted  me.  I  was  a  little  too 
quick  to  condemn  your  slowness;  you  have  more  connectedness 
in  you  than  I.  Our  little  business  in  tiiere  has  proved  to  me 
that  the  common  people  are  wise  to  admit  their  heritage  from 
and  debt  to  the  upper  class.  I'm  sorry  to  see  Peter  running  off 
the  track;  he's  one  of  your  more  talented  men.  Couldn't  we 
get  him  out  here?  He  could  have  one  of  my  rooms.  I  think 
he  needs  a  few  more  comforts." 

'TTou'd  better  propose  it  to  him  yourself,"  said  Pelle. 

The  next  day  Brun  went  into  town  with  Pelle  and  proposed 
it,  but  Peter  Dreyer  declined  with  thanks.  *Tve  no  right  to 
your  comforts  as  long  as  there  are  twenty  thousand  men  that 
have  neither  food  nor  firing/'  he  said,  dismissing  the  subject 
**But  you're  an  anarchist,  of  course,"  he  added  scornfully,  "and 
a  millionaire,  from  what  I  hear;  so  the  imemployed  have  nothing 
to  fear  I"  He  had  been  disappointed  on  becoming  personally 
acquainted  with  the  old  philosopher,  and  never  ^sguised  his 
iU-will. 

*1  think  you  know  that  I  Tiave  already  placed  my  fortune  at 
the  disposal  of  the  poor,"  said  Brun,  in  an  offended  tone,  "and 
my  manner  of  doing  so  will,  I  hope,  some  day  justify  itself.  If 
I  were  to  divide  what  I  possess  to-day  among  the  unemployed, 
it  would  have  evaporated  like  dew  by  to-morrow,  so  tremendous, 
unfortunately,  is  the  want  now." 

Peter  Dreyer  shrugged  his  shoulders.  The  more  reason  was 
there,  he  thought,  to  help. 

*%ould  you  have  us  sacrifice  our  great  plan  of  making  all 
want  tinnecessary,  for  one  meal  of  food  to  the  needy?"  asked 
Pelle. 

Yes,  Peter  saw  only  the  want  of  to-day ;  it  was  such  a  terrible 
reality  ta  him  that  the  future  must  take  care  of  itself. 

A  change  had  taken  place  in  him,  and  he  seemed  quite  to 
have  given  up  the  development. 

**He  sees  too  much,"  said  Pelle  to  Brun,  "and  now  his  heart 
has  dominated  his  r^son.    We'd  better  leave  him  alone;  we 


628  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOR 

shan't  in  any  case  get  him  to  admit  anything^  and  we  only  irri- 
tate him.  Ifs  impossible  to  live  with  all  that  he  always  has 
before  his  eyes,  and  yet  keep  your  head  clear;  you  must  either 
shut  your  eyes  and  harden  yourself^  or  let  yourself  be  broken 
to  pieces.** 

Peter  Dreyer's  heart  was  the  obstruction.  He  often  had  to 
stop  in  the  middle  of  his  work  and  gasp  for  breath.  *Tm  suffo- 
cated !**  he  would  say. 

There  were  many  like  him.  The  ever-increasing  unemploy- 
ment began  to  spread  panic  in  men's  minds.  It  was  no  longer 
only  the  young,  hot-headed  men  who  lost  patience.  Out  of  the 
great  compact  mass  of  organization,  in  which  it  had  hitherto 
been  impossible  to  distinguish  the  individual  beings,  simple- 
minded  men  suddenly  emerged  and  made  themselves  ridiculous 
by  bearing  the  truth  of  the  age  upon  their  lips.  Poor  people, 
who  understood  nothing  of  the  laws  of  life,  nevertheless  awak- 
ened, disappointed,  out  of  the  drowsiness  into  which  the  rhythm 
had  lulled  them,  and  stirred  impatiently.  Nothing  happened 
except  that  one  picked  trade  after  another  left  them  to  become 
middle-class. 

The  Movement  had  hitherto  been  the  fixed  point  of  de- 
parture; from  it  came  everything  fliat  was  of  any  importance, 
and  the  light  fell  from  it  over  the  day.  But  now  suddenly  a 
germ  was  developed  in  the  simplest  of  them,  and  they  put  a 
note  of  interrogation  after  the  party-cry.  To  everything  the 
answer  was :  When  the  Movement  is  victorious,  things  will  be 
otherwise.  But  how  could  they  be  otherwise  when  no  change 
had  taken  place  even  now  when  they  had  the  power?  A  little 
improvement,  perhaps,  but  no  change.  It  had  become  the  r%a- 
lar  refrain,  whenever  a  woman  gave  birth  to  a  child  in  secret, 
or  a  man  stole,  or  beat  his  wife: — It  is  a  consequence  of  the 
system !  ITp  and  vote,  comrades !  But  now  it  was  beginning  to 
sound  idiotic  in  their  ears.  They  were  voting,  confound  it,  with 
all  their  might,  but  all  the  same  everything  was  becoming 
dearer !  (Joodness  knows  they  were  law-abiding  enough.  They 
were  positively  perspiring  with  parliamentarianism,  and  would 
soon  be  doing  nothing  but  getting  mandates.  And  what  then? 
Did  any  one  doubt  that  the  poor  man  was  in  the  majority — an 
overwhelming  majority?    What  was  all  this  nonsense  then  that 


■ 

I 


DAYBBEAK  629 

the  majority  were  to  gain  ?  No,  those  who  had  the  power  would 
take  good  care  to  keep  it;  so  they  might  win  whatever  stupid 
mandates  they  liked  I 

Men  had  too  much  respect  for  the  existing  conditions^  and 
so  they  were  always  being  fooled  by  them.  It  was  all  very  well 
with  all  this  lawfulness^  but  you  didn't  only  go  gradually  from 
the  one  to  the  other  I  How  else  was  it  that  nothing  of  the  new 
happened  ?  The  fact  was  that  every  single  step  toward  the  new 
was  instantly  swallowed  up  by  the  existing  condition  of  things> 
and  turned  to  fat  on  its  ribs.  Capital  grew  fat,  confound  it, 
no  matter  what  you  did  with  it;  it  was  like  a  cat,  which  always 
falls  upon  its  feet.  Each  time  the  workmen  obtained  by  force 
a  small  rise  in  their  wages,  the  employers  multiplied  it  by  two 
and  put  it  onto  the  goods;  that  was  why  they  were  beginning  to 
be  so  accommodating  with  regard  to  certain  wage-demands. 
Those  who  were  rather  well  oflf,  capital  enticed  over  to  its  side, 
leaving  the  others  behind  as  a  shabby  proletariat.  It  might  be 
that  the  Movement  had  done  a  good  piece  of  work,  but  you 
wanted  confounded  good  eyes  to  see  it. 

Thus  voices  were  raised.  At  first  it  was  only  whiners  about 
whom  nobody  needed  to  trouble — ^frequenters  of  public-houses, 
who  sat  and  grumbled  in  their  cups;  but  gradually  it  became 
talk  that  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth;  the  specter  of  unem- 
ployment haunted  every  home  and  made  men  think  over  matters 
once  more  on  their  own  account;  no  one  could  know  when  his 
turn  would  come  to  sweep  the  pavement. 

PeUe  had  no  difficult  in  catching  the  tone  of  all  this;  it 
was  his  own  settlement  with  the  advance  on  coming  out  of 
prison  that  was  now  about  to  become  every  one's.  But  now  he 
was  another  man !  He  was  no  longer  sure  that  the  Movement 
had  been  so  useless.  It  had  not  done  anything  that  marked  a 
boundary,  but  it  had  kept  the  apparatus  going  and  strengthened 
it.  It  had  carried  the  masses  over  a  dead  period,  even  if  only 
by  letting  them  go  in  a  circle.  And  now  the  idea  was  ready 
to  take  them  again.  Perhaps  it  was  a  good  thing  that  there  had 
not  been  too  great  progress^  or  they  would  probably  never  have 
wakened  again.  They  might  very  well  starve  a  little  longer, 
until  they  could  establish  themselves  in  their  own  world;  fat 
slaves  soon  lost  sight  of  liberty. 


630  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

Behind  the  discontented  fossing  Pelle  oonld  hear  tiie  new. 
It  expressed  itself  in  remarkable  ways.  A  party  of  workmen — 
more  than  two  hundred — ^who  were  employed  on  a  large  excava- 
tion woik,  were  thrown  out  of  work  by  the  bankruptcy  of  the 
contractor.  A  new  contractor  took  over  the  work^  but  the  men 
made  it  a  condition  for  beginning  work  again  that  he  should 
pay  them  the  wages  that  were  due  to  them^  and  also  for  the  time 
they  were  unemployed.*  '*We  have  no  share  in  the  cake,^  they 
said^  ''so  you  must  take  the  risk  too  I''  They  made  the  one  em- 
ployer responsible  for  the  other !  And  capriciously  refused  good 
work  at  a  time  when  thousands  were  unemployed !  Public  opin- 
ion almost  lost  its  head^  and  even  their  own  press  held  aloof 
from  them;  but  they  obstinately  kept  to  their  determination^ 
and  joined  the  crowd  of  unemployed  until  their  unreasonable 
demand  was  submitted  to. 

Pelle  heard  a  new  tone  here.  For  the  first  time  the  lower 
class  made  capital  responsible  for  its  sins,  without  any  petty 
distinction  between  Tom^  Dick^  and  Harry.  There  was  begin- 
ning to  be  perspective  in  the  feeling  of  solidarity. 

The  great  weariness  occasioned  by  wandering  in  a  spiritual 
desert  came  once  more  to  the  surface.  He  had  experienced  the 
same  thing  once  before^  when  the  Movement  was  raised;  but 
oddly  enough  the  breaking  out  came  that  time  from  the  bottmn 
of  everything.  It  began  with  blind  attacks  on  parliamentarian- 
ism^  the  suffrage,  and  the  paroles ;  th^re  was  in  it  an  unconscious 
rebellion  against  restraint  and  treatment  in  the  mass.  By  an 
incomprehensible  process  of  renewal,  the  mass  began  to  resolve 
itself  into  individuals,  who,  in  the  midst  of  the  bad  times,  set 
about  an  inquiry  after  the  ego  and  the  laws  for  its  satisfaction. 
They  came  from  the  very  bottom,  and  demanded  that  their 
shabby,  ragged  person  should  be  respected. 

Where  did  they  come  from?  It  was  a  complete  mystery! 
Did  it  not  sound  foolish  that  ihe  poor  man,  after  a  century's 
life  in  rags  and  discomfort,  which  ended  in  his  entire  e&ce- 
ment  in  coUectivism,  should  now  make  his  appearance  with  the 
strongest  claim  of  all,  and  demand  his  soul  back  ? 

Pelle  recognized  the  impatience  of  the  young  men  in  tiiis 
commotion.  It  was  not  for  nothing  that  Peter  Dreyer  was  the 
moving  spirit  at  the  meetings  of  the  unemployed.    Peter  wanted 


DAYBEEAK  631 

him  to  come  and  fipeak^  and  he  went  with  him  two  or  three 
times,  as  he  wanted  to  find  out  the  relation  of  these  people  to 
his  idea;  but  he  remained  in  the  background  and  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  mount  the  platform.  He  had  nothing  to  do  with 
these  confused  crowds,  who  turned  all  his  ideas  upside  down. 
In  any  case  he  could  not  give  them  food  to-day,  and  he  had 
grown  out  of  the  use  of  strong  language. 

*'Go  up  and  say  something  nice  to  them  I  Don^t  you  see  how 
starved  they  are  ?''  said  Peter  Dreyer,  one  evening.  "They  still 
have  confidence  in  you  from  old  days.  But  don't  preach  cooper- 
ation ;  you  don't  feed  hungry  men  with  music  of  the  future.*' 

*TDo  you  give  them  food  then  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

*^o,  I  can't  do  that,  but  I  give  them  a  vent  for  their  griev- 
ances, and  get  them  to  rise  and  protest.  Ifs  something  at  any 
rate,  that  they  no  longer  keep  silence  and  submit." 

''And  if  to-morrow  they  get  something  to  eat,  the  whole  tur- 
moil's forgotten;  but  they're  no  further  on  than  they  were. 
Isn't  it  a  matter  of  indifference  whether  they  suffer  want  to- 
day, as  compared  with  the  question  whether  they  will  do  so 
eternally  ?" 

'If  you  can  put  the  responsibility  upon  those  poor  creatures, 
you  must  be  a  hard-hearted  brute  1"  said  Peter  angrily. 

Well,  it  was  necessary  now  to  harden  one's  hearty  for  nothing 
would  be  accomplished  with  sympathy  only  I  The  man  with 
eyes  that  watered  would  not  do  for  a  driver  through  the  dark- 
ness. 

It  was  a  dull  time,  and  men  were  glad  when  they  coxdd 
keep  iheir  situations.  There  was  no  question  of  new  under- 
takings before  the  spring.  But  Pelle  worked  hard  to  gain  ad- 
herents to  his  idea.  He  had  started  a  discussion  in  the  labor 
party  press,  and  gave  lectures.  He  chose  the  quiet  trade  unions, 
disdained  all  agitation  eloquence,  and  put  forward  his  idea  with 
the  clearness  of  an  expert,  building  it  up  from  his  own  experi- 
ence until,  without  any  fuss,  by  the  mere  power  of  the  facts,  it 
embraced  the  world.  It  was  the  slow  ones  he  wanted  to  get  hold 
of,  those  who  had  been  the  firm  nucleus  of  the  Movement 
through  all  these  years,  and  steadfastly  continued  to  walk  in  the 
old  foot-prints,  although  they  led  nowhere.  It  was  the  picked 
troops  from  the  great  confiict  that  must  first  of  all  be  called 


682  '     PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

upon !  He  knew  that  if  he  got  them  to  go  into  fire  for  his  idea 
with  their  unyielding  discipline^  much  would  be  gained. 

It  was  high  time  for  a  new  idea  to  come  and  take  them  on; 
they  had  grown  weary  of  this  perpetual  goose-step;  the  Move- 
ment was  running  away  from  them.  But  now  he  had  come  with 
an  idea  of  which  they  would  never  grow  weary^  and  whidi 
would  carry  them  right  through.  No  one  would  be  able  to  say 
that  he  could  not  understand  it,  for  it  was  the  simple  idea  of 
the  home  carried  out  so  as  to  include  everything.  Ellen  had 
taught  it  to  him,  and  if  they  did  not  know  it  themselves,  they 
must  go  home  to  their  wives  and  learn  it.  They  did  not  brood 
over  the  question  as  to  which  of  the  family  paid  least  or  ate 
most,  but  gave  to  each  one  according  to  his  needs,  and  took  the 
will  for  the  deed.  The  world  would  be  like  a  good,  loving  home, 
where  no  one  oppressed  the  other — ^nothing  more  complicated 
than  that. 

Pelle  was  at  work  early  and  late.  Scarcely  a  day  passed  on 
which  he  did  not  give  a  lecture  or  vnrite  about  his  cooperation 
idea.  He  was  frequently  summoned  into  the  provinces  to  speak. 
People  wanted  to  see  and  hear  the  remarkable  manufacturer  who 
earned  no  more  than  his  work-people. 

In  these  journeys  he  came  to  know  the  country,  and  saw 
that  much  of  his  idea  had  been  anticipated  out  there.  The 
peasant,  who  stiflfened  with  horror  at  the  word  "socialist,^  put 
the  ideas  of  the  Movement  into  practice  on  a  large  scale.  He 
had  arranged  matters  on  the  cooperative  system,  and  had  knitted 
the  country  into  supply  associations. 

'^e  must  join  on  there  when  we  get  our  business  into  better 
order,*^  said  Pelle  to  Brun. 

'^es,  if  the  farmers  will  work  with  us,''  said  Bnm  doubt- 
fully.   ''They're  conservative,  you  know." 

This  was  now  almost  revolutionary.  As  far  as  Pelle  could 
see,  there  would  soon  be  no  place  as  big  as  his  thumb-nail  for 
capital  to  feed  upon  out  there.  The  farmers  went  about  things 
so  quickly  I  Pelle  came  of  peasant  stock  himself,  and  did  not 
doubt  that  he  would  be  able  to  get  in  touch  with  the  country 
when  the  time  came. 

The  development  was  preparing  on  several  sides;  tiiey 
would  not  break  with  that  if  they  wanted  to  attain  anything. 


DAYBREAK  533 

It  was  like  a  fixed  law  relating  to  growth  in  existence^  an  in-; 
Yiolable  divine  idea  running  through  it  all.  It  was  now  leading 
him  and  his  fellows  into  the  fire,  and  when  they  advanced,  no 
one  must  stay  behind.  No  class  of  the  community  had  yet  ad- 
vanced with  so  bright  and  great  a  call;  they  were  going  to  put 
an  end  forever  to  the  infamy  of  human  genius  sitting  and 
weighing  the  spheres  in  space,  but  forgetting  to  weigh  the  bread 
justly. 

He  was  not  tired  of  the  awakening  discontent  with  the  old 
condition  of  things;  it  opened  up  the  overgrown  minds,  and 
created  possibility  for  the  new.  At  present  he  had  no  great 
number  of  adherents;  various  new  currents  were  fighting  over 
the  minds,  which,  in  their  faltering  search,  were  drawn  now  to 
one  side,  now  to  the  other.  But  he  had  a  buoyant  feeling  of 
serving  a  world-idea,  and  did  not  lose  courage. 

Unemployment  and  the  awakening  ego-feeling  brought  many 
to  join  Peter  Dreyer.  They  rebelled  against  the  conditions,  and 
now  saw  no  alternative  but  to  break  with  everything.  They 
sprang  naked  out  of  nothing,  and  demanded  that  their  person- 
ality should  be  respected,  but  were  unable  as  yet  to  bear  its 
burdens;  and  their  hopeless  view  of  their  misery  threatened  to 
stifie  them.  Then  they  made  obstruction,  their  own  broken-down 
condition  making  them  want  to  break  down  the  whole.  They 
were  Pelle's  most  troublesome  opponents. 

Up  to  the  present  they  had  unfortunately  been  right,  but 
now  he  could  not  comprehend  their  desperate  impatience.  He 
had  given  them  an  idea  now,  with  which  they  could  conquer  the 
world  just  by  preserving  their  coherence,  and  if  they  did  not 
accept  this,  there  must  be  something  wrong  with  them.  Taking 
this  view  of  the  matter,  he  looked  upon  their  disintegrating  agi- 
tation with  composure ;  the  healthy  mind  would  be  victorious ! 

Peter  Dreyer  was  at  present  agitating  for  a  mass-meeting  of 
the  unemployed.  He  wanted  the  twenty  thousand  men,  with 
wives  and  children,  to  take  up  their  position  on  the  Council 
House  Square  or  Amalienborg  Palace  Square,  and  refuse  to 
move  away  until  the  community  took  charge  of  them. 

'Then  the  authorities  can  choose  between  listening  to  their 
demands,  and  driving  up  horses  and  cannon,''  he  said.  Perhaps 
that  would  open  up  the  question. 


634  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOE 

'Take  care  then  that  the  police  don't  arrest  you,**  said  Peli^ 
in  a  warning  voice;  ''or  yonr  people  will  be  left  without  a  head, 
and  you  will  have  enticed  them  into  a  ridiculous  situation  which 
can  only  end  in  defeat/' 

"Let  them  take  care^  the  cursP  answered  Peter  threats- 
ingly.  "I  shall  strike  at  the  first  hand  that  attempts  to  seiae 
mel** 

"And  what  then  ?  What  do  you  gain  by  striking  the  police- 
men?  They  are  only  the  tool,  and  there  are  plenty  of  tiiemP' 

Peter  laughed  bitterly.  "No/'  he  said,  "ifs  not  the  police- 
men, nor  the  assistant,  nor  the  chief  of  police!  Ifs  no  one! 
Thaf s  so  convenient,  no  one  can  help  it !  TheyVe  always  stol^ 
a  march  upon  us  in  that  way;  the  evil  always  dives  and  disap- 
pears when  you  want  to  catch  it  It  wasn't  me!'  Now  flic 
workman's  demanding  his  right,  the  employer  finds  it  to  his 
advantage  to  disappear,  and  the  impersonal  joint  stock  com- 
pany appears.  Oh,  this  confounded  sneaking  out  of  a  thing! 
Where  is  one  to  apply?  There's  no  one  -to  take  the  blame! 
But  something  ahail  be  done  now!  If  I  hit  the  hand,  I  hit 
what  stands  behind  it  too ;  you  must  hit  what  you  can  see.  Ffe 
got  a  revolver  to  use  against  the  police;  to  carry  arms  against 
one's  own  people  shall  not  be  made  a  harmless  means  of  liveli- 
hood unchallenged." 


xvn 

Onb  Saturday  evening  Pelle  came  home  by  train  from  s 
provincial  town  where  he  had  been  helping  to  start  a  cooper- 
ative  undertaking. 

It  was  late^  but  many  shops  were  still  open  and  sent  their 
brilliant  light  oat  into  the  drizzling  rain^  through  which  the 
black  stream  of  the  streets  flowed  as  fast  as  ever.  It  was  the 
time  when  the  working  women  came  from  the  center  of  the 
city — ^pale  typists^  cashiers  with  the  excitement  of  the  cheap 
novel  still  in  their  eyes^  seamstresses  from  the  large  businesses. 
Some  hurried  along  looking  straight  before  them  without  taking 
any  notice  of  the  solitary  street-wanderers ;  they  had  something 
waiting  for  them — a  little  child  perhaps.  Others  had  nothing 
to  hurry  f or^  and  looked  weariedly  about  them  as  they  walked^ 
until  perhaps  they  suddenly  brightened  up  at  sight  of  a  young 
man  in  the  throng. 

Charwomen  were  on  their  way  home  with  their  basket  on 
their  arm.  They  had  had  a  long  day^  and  dragged  their  heavy 
feet  along.  The  street  was  full  of  women  workers — a  changed 
world  I  The  bad  times  had  called  the  women  out  and  left  the 
men  at  home.  On  their  way  home  they  made  their  purchases 
for  Sunday.  In  the  butchers'  and  provision-dealers'  they  stood 
waiting  like  tired  horses  for  their  turn.  Shivering  children 
stood  on  tiptoe  with  their  money  clasped  convulsively  in  one 
hand,  and  their  chin  supported  on  the  edge  of  the  counter, 
staring  greedily  at  the  eatables,  while  the  light  was  reflected 
from  tiieir  ravenous  eyes. 

Pelle  walked  quickly  to  reach  the  open  country.  He  did 
not  like  these  desolate  streets  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  where 
poverty  rose  like  a  sea-birds'  nesting-place  on  both  sides  of  the 

S86 


536  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOR 

narrow  deft,  and  the  darkness  sighed  boieath  so  much*  When 
he  entered  an  endless  brick  channel  such  as  these,  where  one- 
and  two-roomed  flats,  in  seven  stories  extended  as  far  as  he 
could  see,  he  felt  his  courage  forsaking  him.  It  was  like  pass- 
ing through  a  huge  churchyard  of  disappointed  hopes.  AH 
these  thousands  of  families  were  like  so  many  unhappy  fates; 
ihey  had  set  out  brightly  and  hopefuDy,  and  now  they  stood 
here,  fighting  with  the  emptiness. 

Pelle  walked  quickly  out  along  the  field  road.  It  was  pitdi- 
daik  and  raining,  but  he  knew  every  ditch  and  path  by  heart 
Far  up  on  the  hill  there  shone  a  light  which  resembled  a  star 
that  hung  low  in  the  sky.  It  must  be  the  lamp  in  Bran's  bed- 
room. He  wondered  at  the  old  man  being  up  still,  for  he  was 
soon  tired  now  that  he  had  given  up  the  occupation  of  a  long 
lifetime,  and  generally  went  to  bed  early.  Perhaps  he  had  for- 
gotten to  put  out  the  lamp. 

Pelle  had  turned  his  coat-collar  up  about  his  ears,  and  was 
in  a  comfortable  frame  of  mind.  He  liked  walking  alone  in 
the  dark.  Formerly  its  yawning  emptiness  had  filled  him  with 
a  panic  of  fear,  but  the  prison  had  made  his  mind  familiar  with 
it  He  used  to  look  forward  to  these  lonely  night  walks  home 
across  the  fields.  The  noises  of  the  city  died  away  behind  him, 
and  he  breathed  the  pure  air  that  seemed  to  come  straight  to 
him  out  of  space.  All  that  a  man  cannot  impart  to  others  arose 
in  him  in  these  walks.  In  the  daily  struggle  he  often  had  a 
depressing  feeling  that  the  result  depended  upon  pure  chance. 
It  was  not  easy  to  obtain  a  hearing  through  the  Uiousand* 
voiced  noise.  A  sensation  was  needed  in  order  to  attract  atten- 
tion, and  he  had  presented  himself  with  only  quite  an  ordinary 
idea,  and  declared  that  without  stopping  a  wheel  it  could  re- 
model the  world.  No  one  took  the  trouble  to  oppose  him,  %nd 
even  the  manufacturers  in  his  trade  took  his  enterprise  calmly 
and  seemed  to  have  given  up  the  war  against  him.  He  had  ex- 
pected great  opposition,  and  had  looked  forward  to  overeomini^ 
it,  and  this  indifference  sometimes  made  him  doubt  TiimaAlf- 
His  invincible  idea  would  simply  disappear  in  the  motley  confu- 
sion of  life  I 

But  out  here  in  the  country,  where  night  lay  upon  the  earth 
like  great  rest,  his  strength  returned  to  him.    AU  the  indiffer- 


DAYBBEAE  637 

ence  fell  away^  and  he  saw  that  like  the  piers  of  a  bridge,  his 
reality  lay  beneath  the  surface.  Insignificant  though  he  ap- 
peared,  he  rested  upon  an  immense  foundation.  The  solitude 
around  him  revealed  it  to  him  and  made  him  feel  his  own 
I)Ower.  While  fhey  overlooked  his  enterprise  he  would  make  it 
80  strong  that  they  would  run  their  head  against  it  when  they 
awoke. 

Pelle  was  glad  he  lived  in  the  country,  and  it  was  a  dream 
of  his  to  move  the  workmen  out  there  again  some  day.  He 
disliked  the  town  more  and  more,  and  never  became  quite 
familiar  with  it.  It  was  always  just  as  strange  to  go  about  in 
this  humming  hive,  where  each  seemed  to  buzz  on  his  own  ac- 
count, and  yet  all  were  subject  to  one  great  will — ^that  of 
hunger.  The  town  exerted  a  dull  power  over  men's  minds,  it 
drew  the  poor  to  it  with  lies  about  happiness,  and  when  it  once 
had  them,  held  them  fiendishly  fast.  The  poisonous  air  was 
like  opium;  the  most  miserable  beings  dream  they  are  happy  in 
it;  and  when  they  have  once  got  a  taste  for  it,  they  had  not  the 
strength  of  mind  to  go  back  to  the  uneventful  everyday  life 
again.  There  was  always  something  dreadful  behind  the  town's 
physiognomy,  as  though  it  were  lying  in  wait  to  drag  men  into 
its  net  and  fleece  them.  In  the  daytime  it  might  be  concealed 
by  the  multitudinous  noises,  but  the  darkness  brought  it  out. 

Every  evening  before  Pelle  went  to  bed  he  went  out  to  the 
end  of  tiie  house  and  gazed  out  into  the  night.  It  was  an  old 
peasant-custom  that  he  had  inherited  from  Father  Lasse  and 
his  father  before  him.  His  inquiring  gaze  sought  the  town 
where  his  thoughts  already  were.  On  sunny  days  there  was 
only  smoke  and  mist  to  be  seen,  but  on  a  dark  night  like  this 
there  was  a  cheerful  glow  above  it.  The  town  had  a  peculiar 
power  of  shedding  darkness  roimd  about  it,  and  lighting  white 
artificial  light  in  it.  It  lay  low,  like  a  bog  with  the  land  slop- 
ing down  to  it  on  all  sides,  and  all  water  running  into  it.  Its 
luminous  mist  seemed  to  reach  to  the  uttermost  borders  of  the 
land;  everything  came  this  way.  Large  dragon-flies  hovered 
over  the  bog  in  metallic  splendor;  gnats  danced  above  it  like 
careless  shadows.  A  ceaseless  hum  rose  from  it,  and  below  lay 
the  depth  that  had  fostered  them,  seething  so  that  he  could  hear 
it  where  he  stood. 


638  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

Sometimes  the  light  of  the  town  flickered  np  oyer  tbe  Aj 
like  the  Tefleddon  from  a  gigantic  forge-fire.  It  was  like  ul 
enormous  heart  throbbing  in  panic  in  the  darkness  down  there; 
his  own  canght  the  infection  and  contracted  in  vague  terroEr. 
Cries  would  suddenly  rise  from  down  there,  and  one  almost 
wished  for  them;  a  loud  exclamation  was  a  relief  from  the 
everlasting  latent  excitement  Down  there  boieath  ihe  walls 
of  the  city  the  darkness  was  always  alive;  it  glided  along  like  t 
heavy  life-stream,  flowing  slowly  among  taverns  and  low  musie- 
halls  and  barracks,  with  their  fateful  contents  of  want  and  im- 
precations. Its  secret  doings  inspired  him  with  horror;  he 
hated  the  town  for  its  darkness  which  hid  so  much. 

He  had  stopped  in  front  of  his  house,  and  stood  gazing 
downward.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  sound  from  within  that  made 
him  start,  and  he  quickly  let  himself  in.  Ellen  came  out  into 
the  passage  looking  disturbed. 

'Thank  goodness  you've  come  1'^  she  exclaimed,  quite  forget- 
ting to  greet  him.    ^'Anna's  so  ill  1" 

'^  it  anything  serious  V*  asked  Pelle,  hurriedly  r^noving  his 
coat. 

^f s  the  old  story.  I  got  a  carriage  from  the  farm  to  drive 
in  for  the  doctor.  It  was  dear,  but  Brun  said  I  must.  She's 
to  have  hot  milk  with  Ems  salts  and  soda  water.  You  must 
warm  yourself  at  the  stove  before  you  go  up  to  her,  but  make 
haste!    She  keeps  on  asking  for  yoxt" 

The  sick-room  was  in  semi-darkness,  Ellen  having  put  a  red 
shade  over  the  lamp,  so  that  the  light  should  not  annoy  Ihe 
chOd.  Brun  was  sitting  on  a  chair  by  her  bed,  watching  h^ 
intently  as  she  lay  muttering  in  a  feverish  doze.  He  made  t 
sign  to  PeUe  to  walk  quietly.  ''She's  asleep  1"  he  whispered. 
The  old  man  looked  imhappy. 

Pelle  bent  silaitly  over  her.  She  lay  with  closed  eyes,  bat 
was  not  asleep.  Her  hot  breath  came  in  short  gasps.  As  he 
was  about  to  raise  himself  again,  she  opened  her  eyes  and 
smiled  at  him. 

''What's  the  matter  with  Sister?  Is  she  going  to  be  ill 
again?"  he  said  softly.  "I  thought  the  sun  had  sent  that 
naughty  bronchitis  away." 

The  child  shook  her  head  resignedly.    "Listen  to  the  cellar- 


DAYBBEAE  589 

manP  she  whispered.  He  was  whistling  as  hard  as  he  could 
down  in  her  windpipe^  and  she  listened  to  him  with  a  serious 
expression.  Then  her  hand  stole  np  and  she  stroked  her 
father's  face  as  thongh  to  comfort  him. 

Brun,  however,  put  her  hand  down  again  immediately  and 
covered  her  np  close.  **We  very  nearly  lost  that  doll  !'*  he  said 
seriously.  He  had  promised  her  a  large  doll  if  she  would  keep 
covered  up. 

''Shall  I  still  get  it?^  she  asked  in  gasps,  gazing  at  him  in 
dismay. 

'Tes,  of  course  you^  get  it,  and  if  you  make  haste  and  get 
well,  you  shall  have  a  carriage  too  with  indiarubber  tires.'' 

Here  Ellen  came  in.  *TMr.  Brun,"  she  said,  'Tve  made  your 
room  all  ready  for  you.''  She  laid  a  quieting  hand  upon  the 
child's  anxious  face. 

The  librarian  rose  unwillingly.  ''Thaf s  to  say  Mr.  Brun 
is  to  go  to  bed,"  he  said  half  in  displeasure.  ''Well,  well,  good- 
night then!  I  rely  upon  your  waking  me  if  things  become 
worse." 

"How  good  he  is!"  said  Ellen  softly.  "He's  been  sitting 
here  all  the  time  to  see  that  she  kept  covered  up.  He's  made 
us  afraid  to  move  because  she's  to  be  kept  quiet;  but  he  can't 
help  chattering  to  her  himself  whenever  she  opens  her  eyes.'' 

Ellen  had  moved  Lasse  Frederik's  bed  down  into  their  bed- 
room and  put  up  her  own  here  so  as  to  watch  over  the  child. 
"Now  you  should  go  to  bed,"  she  said  softly  to  Pelle.  "You 
must  be  tired  to  death  after  your  journey,  and  you  can't  have 
slept  last  night  in  the  train  either." 

He  looked  tired,  but  she  could  not  persuade  him;  he  meant 
to  stay  up  there.  "I  can't  sleep  anyhow  as  things  are,"  he 
whispered,  "and  to-morrow's  Sunday." 

"Then  lie  down  on  my  bed  I    ItTl  rest  you  a  little." 

He  lay  down  to  please  her,  and  stared  up  at  the  ceiling 
while  he  listened  to  the  child's  short,  rattling  respiration.  He 
could  hear  that  she  was  not  asleep.  She  lay  and  played  with 
the  rattling  sound,  making  the  cellar-man  speak  sometimes  with 
a  deep  voice,  sometimes  with  a  high  one.  She  seemed  quite 
familiar  with  this  dangerous  chatter,  which  had  already  cost 
her  many  hours  of  illness  and  sounded  so  painful  to  Belle's  ear. 


540  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

She  bore  her  ilhiese  with  the  wonderful  resignation  that  be- 
longed to  the  dwellers  in  the  back  streets.  She  did  not  beoome 
unreasonable  or  exacting,  but  generally  lay  and  entertained  her- 
self. It  was  as  though  she  felt  grateful  for  her  bed;  she  was 
always  in  the  best  spirits  when  she  was  in  it.  The  sun  out  here 
had  made  her  very  brown,  but  there  must  be  something  in  her 
that  it  had  not  prevailed  against.  It  was  not  so  easy  to  move 
away  from  the  bad  air  of  the  back  streets. 

Whenever  she  had  a  fit  of  coughing,  Pelle  raised  her  into  a 
sitting  posture  and  helped  her  to  get  rid  of  the  phl^m.  She 
was  purple  in  the  face  with  coughing,  and  looked  at  him  with 
eyes  that  were  almost  starting  out  of  her  head  with  the  violent 
exertion.  Then  Ellen  brought  her  the  hot  milk  and  Ems  salts, 
and  she  drank  it  with  a  resigned  expression  and  lay  down  again. 

*T.Vb  never  been  so  bad  before,''  whispered  EUen,  "so  what 
can  be  the  use?    Perhaps  the  coimtry  air  isn't  good  for  her." 

'fit  ought  to  be  though,"  said  Pelle,  "or  dse  she's  a  poor 
little  poisoned  thing." 

Ellen's  voice  rang  with  the  possibility  of  their  moving  back 
again  to  the  town  for  the  sake  of  the  child.  To  her  the  town 
air  was  not  bad,  but  simply  milder  than  out  here.  Through 
several  generations  she  had  become  accustomed  to  it  and  had 
overcome  its  injurious  effects ;  to  her  it  seemed  goo^  as  only  the 
air  of  home  can  be.  She  could  live  anywhere,  but  nothing  must 
be  said  against  her  childhood's  home.    Then  she  became  eager. 

The  child  had  wakened  with  their  whispering,  and  lay  and 
looked  at  them.    "I  shan't  die,  shall  I  ?"  she  asked. 

They  bent  over  her.  "Now  you  must  cover  yourself  up  and 
not  think  about  such  things,"  said  EUen  anxiously. , 

But  the  child  continued  obstinately,  ^flf  I  die,  will  you  be 
as  sorry  about  me  as  you  were  about  Johanna?"  she  asked  anx- 
iously, with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  them. 

Pelle  nodded.    It  was  impossible  for  him  to  speak. 

"Will  you  paint  the  ceiling  black  to  show  youS:e  sorry  about 
me?  WiU  you,  father?"  she  continued  inexorably,  looking  at 
him. 

"Yes,  yes  I"  said  Ellen  desperately,  kissing  her  lips  to  make 
her  stop  talking.  The  child  turned  over  contentedly,  and  in 
another  moment  she  was  asleep. 


DAYBBBAK  641 

"She's  not  hot  now/*  whispered  Pelle.  "I  think  the  fever's 
gone/'  His  face  was  very  grave.  Death  had  passed  its  cold 
hand  over  it;  he  knew  it  was  only  in  jest,  but  he  could  not 
shake  off  the  impression  it  had  made. 

They  sat  silent^  listening  to  the  child's  breathings  which  was 
now  quiet.  Ellen  had  put  her  hand  into  Pelle's,  and  every  now 
and  tiien  she  shuddered.  They  did  not  move,  but  simply  sat 
and  listened,  while  the  time  ran  singing  on.  Then  the  cock 
crew  below,  and  roused  Pelle.  It  was  three  o'clock,  and  the 
child  had  slept  for  two  hours.  The  lamp  had  almost  burned 
dry,  and  he  could  scarcely  see  Ellen's  profile  in  the  semi-dark- 
ness.   She  looked  tired. 

He  rose  noiselessly  and  kissed  her  forehead.  *'Qo  downstairs 
and  go  to  bed,"  he  whispered,  leading  her  toward  the  door. 

Stealthy  footsteps  were  heard  outside.  It  was  Brun  who 
had  been  down  to  listen  at  the  door.  He  had  not  been  to  bed 
at  all.  The  lamp  was  burning  in  his  sitting-room,  and  the  table 
was  covered  with  papers.    He  had  been  writing. 

He  became  very  cheerful  when  he  heard  that  the  attack  was 
over.  'T!  think  you  ought  rather  to  treat  us  to  a  cup  of  coffee," 
he  answered,  when  Ellen  scolded  him  because  he  was  not  asleep. 

Ellen  went  down  and  made  the  coffee,  and  they  drank  it  in 
Brun's  room.  The  doors  were  left  ajar  so  that  they  could  hear 
the  child. 

'fit's  been  a  long  night,"  said  Pelle,  passing  his  hand  across 
his  forehead. 

'TTes,  if  there  are  going  to  be  more  like  it,  we  shall  cer- 
tainly have  to  move  back  into  town,"  said  Ellen  obstinately. 

'fit  would  be  a  better  plan  to  begin  giving  her  a  cold  bath 
in  the  morning  as  soon  as  she's  well  again,  and  try  to  get  her 
hardened,"  said  Pelle. 

'T)o  you  know,"  said  Ellen,  turning  to  Brun,  'Telle  thinks 
if  s  the  bad  air  and  the  good  air  fighting  for  the  child,  and  thaf  s 
the  only  reason  why  she's  worse  here  than  in  town." 

"So  it  is,"  said  Brun  gravely;  "and  a  sick  child  like  that 
gives  one  something  to  think  about." 


xvm 

Thb  next  day  tiiej  were  up  late.  EUen  did  not  wake  until 
about  ten^  and  was  quite  horrified;  bat  wh^i  die  got  np  she 
found  the  fire  on  and  ererything  in  order^  for  Laase  Frederik 
had  seen  to  it  alL    She  cotdd  start  on  breakfast  at  onoe. 

Sister  was  quite  bright  again,  and  EUen  moved  her  into  the 
sitting-room  and  made  np  a  bed  on  the  sofa,  where  she  sat 
padred  in  with  pillows,  and  had  her  breakfast  with  the  others. 

^Are  you  sorry  Sister's  getting  well,  old  man?^  asked  Boy 
Comfort. 

^^y  name  isn't  ^old  man.'  Ifs  'grandfather'  or  else  QCr. 
Bran/  "  said  the  librarian,  langhing  and  looking  at  Ellen,  who 
Unshed. 

^Are  yon  sorry  Sister's  getting  well,  grandfather  ?"  repeated 
the  boy  with  a  fmmy,  pedantic  Uteralness. 

^And  why  shonld  I  be  sorry  for  that,  yon  little  stupid?" 

^^Beeause  you've  got  to  give  money!" 

^The  doll,  yes!  Thafs  true!  Youll  have  to  wait  till  to- 
morrow, Sister,  because  to-day's  Sunday." 

Anna  had  eaten  her  egg  and  turned  the  shell  npside  down 
in  the  egg-cup  so  that  it  looked  like  an  egg  that  had  not  been 
touched.    She  pushed  it  slowly  toward  Brun. 

'^Whafs  the  matter  now?"  he  exclaimed,  pushing  his  spec- 
tacles up  onto  his  forehead,    ^ou  haven't  eaten  your  ^g !" 

^  cant,"  she  said,  hanging  her  head. 

'n^y,  there  must  be  something  wrong  with  her!"  said  the 
old  man,  in  amazement  ^Such  a  big,  fat  ^g  too  I  Very  well, 
then  I  must  eat  it."  And  he  began  to  crack  the  e^,  Anna  and 
Boy  Ciomfort  following  his  movements  with  dancing  eyes  and 
their  hands  over  their  mouths,  until  his  spoon  went  through  ti» 
shell  and  he  sprang  up  to  throw  it  at  their  heads,  whai  thdr 

(42 


DAYBBEAE  543 

merriment  burst  forth.  It  was  a  joke  that  never  suflFered  by 
repetition. 

While  breakfast  was  in  progress,  the  farmer  from  the  hill 
farm  came  in  to  tell  them  that  they  mnst  be  prepared  to  move 
out,  as  he  meant  to  sell  the  house.  He  was  one  of  those  farmers 
of  common-land,  whom  the  city  had  thrown  off  their  balance. 
He  had  lived  up  there  and  had  seen  one  farm  after  another 
grow  larger  and  make  their  owners  into  millionaires,  and  was 
always  expecting  that  his  turn  would  come.  He  neglected  the 
land,  and  even  the  mpst  abimdant  harvest  was  ridiculously  small 
in  comparison  with  his  golden  dreams;  so  the  fields  were  al- 
lowed to  lie  and  produce  weeds. 

Ellen  was  just  as  dismayed  as  Pelle  at  ihe  thought  of  having 
to  leave  'TDaybreak.*'  It  was  their  home,  their  nest  too;  aU 
their  happiness  and  welfare  were  really  connected  with  this  spot. 

^TTou  can  buy  the  house  of  course,*'  said  the  farmer.  **I've 
had  an  offer  of  fifteen  thousand  (£850)  for  it,  and  I^  let  it  go 
for  that.'' 

After  he  had  gone  they  sat  and  discussed  the  matter,  'flfs 
very  cheap,"  said  Brun.  *T[n  a  year  or  two  you'll  have  the  town 
spreading  in  this  direction,  and  then.ifll  be  worth  at  least  twice 
as  much." 

'TTes,  that  may  be,"  said  Pelle ;  'T)ut  you've  both  to  get  the 
amount  and  make  it  yield  interest." 

'^There's  eight  thousand  (£450)  in  the  first  mortgage,  and 
the  loan  institution  will  lend  half  that.  That'll  make  twelve 
thousand  (£675).  That  leaves  three  thousand  (£175),  and  I'm 
not  afraid  of  putting  tiiat  in  as  a  third  mortgage,"  said  Brun. 

Pelle  did  not  like  that.  *T]liere'll  be  need  for  your  money  in 
the  business,"  he  said. 

^TTes,  yes  I  But  when  you  put  the  house  into  repair  and 
have  it  re-valued,  I'm  certain  you  can  get  the  whole  fifteen 
thousand  in  ihe  Loan  Societies,"  said  Brun.  ^1  think  itil  be 
to  your  advantage  to  do  it." 

EUen  had  taken  pencil  and  paper,  and  was  making  calcula- 
tions. ''What  percentage  do  you  reckon  for  interest  and  paying 
off  by  instalments?"  she  asked. 

'TPive,"  said  the  old  man.  'TTou  do  all  the  work  of  keeping 
it  up  yourselves." 


544  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOB 

**Theii  I  would  venture/'  she  said,  looking  damitlessly  at 
them.  **It  would  be  nice  to  own  the  house  ourselves,  don't  you 
think  so,  PeHer 

*TTo,  I  think  ifs  quite  mad,''  Pelle  answered.  **We  shall  be 
saddled  with  a  house-rent  of  seven  himdred  and  fifty  kroner 
(over  £40)." 

Ellen  was  not  afraid  of  the  house-rent;  the  house  and  gar- 
den would  bear  that.  ^And  in  a  few  years  we  can  sell  the 
ground  for  building  and  make  a  lot  of  money."  She  was  red 
with  excitement. 

Pelle  laughed,  '^es,  speculation  I  Im't  that  what  the  hiU 
farmer  has  gone  to  pieces  over?"  Pelle  had  quite  enough 
on  his  hands  and  had  no  desire  to  have  property  to  struggle 
with. 

But  Ellen  became  only  more  and  more  bent  upon  it.  'Then 
buy  it  yourself  I"  said  Pelle,  laughing.  *Tve  no  desire  to  be- 
come a  millionaire." 

EUen  was  quite  ready  to  do  it  '^ut  then  the  housell  be 
mtn^,"  she  declared.  ^And  if  I  make  money  on  it,  I  must  be 
allowed  to  spend  it  just  as  I  like.  It's  not  to  go  into  your  bot- 
tomless common  cash-box  I"    The  men  laughed. 

''Brun  and  I  are  going  for  a  walk,"  said  Pelle,  **so  well  go 
in  and  write  a  contract  note  for  you  at  once." 

They  went  down  the  garden  and  followed  the  edge  of  the 
hill  to  the  south.  The  weather  was  clear;  it  had  changed  to 
slight  frost,  and  white  rime  covered  the  fields.  Where  the  low 
sun's  rays  fell  upon  them,  the  rime  had  melted  and  the  withered 
green  grass  appeared.  **If  s  really  pretty  here,"  said  Brun. 
"See  how  nice  the  town  looks  with  its  towers — only  one  shouldn't 
live  there.  I  was  thinking  of  that  last  night  when  the  child 
was  lying  there  with  her  cough.  The  work-people  reaUy  get 
no  share  of  the  sxm,  nor  do  those  who  in  other  respects  are 
decently  well  off.  And  then  I  thought  I'd  like  to  build  houses 
for  our  people  on  the  ridge  of  the  hill  on  both  sides  of  HDay- 
break.'  The  people  of  the  new  age  ought  to  live  in  higher  and 
brighter  situations  than  others.  Ill  tell  you  how  I  thought  of 
doing  it.  I  should  in  the  meantime  advance  money  for  Que 
plots,  and  the  business  should  gradually  redeem  them  with  its 
surplus.     That  is  quite  as  practical  as  dividing  the  surplus 


DAYBEEAK  546 

among  the  workmen^  and  we  thereby  create  values  for  the  enter- 
prise. Talking  of  surplus — jou^e  worked  well,  Pelle  1  I  made 
an  estimate  of  it  last  night  and  found  it's  already  about  ten 
thousand  (£555)  this  year.  But  to  return  to  what  we  were 
talking  about — ^mortgage  loans  are  generally  able  to  cover  the 
building  expenses,  and  with  amortization  the  whole  thing  is 
imencumbered  after  some  years  have  passed.^ 

'*Who*s  to  own  it?'*  asked  Pelle.  He  was  chewing  a  piece  of 
grass  and  putting  his  feet  down  deliberately  like  a  farmer  walk- 
ing on  ploughed  land. 

'^The  cooperative  company.  It's  to  be  so  arranged  that  the 
houses  can't  be  made  over  to  others,  nor  encumbered  with  fresh 
loan.  Our  cooperative  enterprises  must  avoid  all  form  of  spec- 
ulation, thereby  limiting  the  field  for  capital.  The  whole  thing 
should  be  self-supporting  and  be  able  to  do  away  with  private 
property  within  its  boundaries.  You  see  it's  your  own  idea  of  a 
community  within  the  community  that  I'm  building  upon.  At 
present  if s  not  easy  to  find  a  juridical  form  under  which  the 
whole  thing  can  work  itself,  but  in  the  meantime  you  and  I  will 
manage  it,  and  Morten  if  he  will  join  us.  I  expect  he'U  come 
home  with  renewed  strength." 

^And  when  is  this  plan  to  be  realized?  Will  it  be  in  the 
near  future?" 

*This  very  winter,  I  had  thought;  and  in  this  way  we  should 
also  be  able  to  do  a  little  for  the  great  unemployment.  Thirty 
houses  I  It  would  be  a  beginning  anyhow.  And  behind  it  lies 
the  whole  world,  Pelle  1" 

^Shall  you  make  the  occupation  of  the  houses  obligatory  for 
our  workmen?" 

'TTes,  cooperation  makes  it  an  obligation.  You  can't  be 
half  outside  and  half  inside!    Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

'fit's  a  strong  plan,"  said  Pelle.  'TVe  shall  build  our  own 
town  here  on  the  hill." 

The  old  man's  face  shone  with  delight.  'There's  something 
in  me  after  all,  eh  ?  There's  old  business-blood  in  my  veins  too. 
My  forefathers  built  a  world  for  themselves,  and  why  should  I 
do  less  than  they  ?    I  ought  to  have  been  yoimger,  Pelle  I" 

They  walked  round  the  hill  and  came  to  the  farm  from  the 
other  side.    'The  whole  piece  wouldn't  really  be  too  large  if 


646  PELLE   THE   CONQUEROR 

we're  to  have  room  to  extend  onrselyes,''  said  Pelle,  who  was  not 
afraid  of  a  large  outlay  when  it  was  a  question  of  a  great  plan. 

^1  was  thinking  the  same  thing,''  answered  Bmn.  'Vow 
much  is  there  here?  A  couple  of  hundred  acres?  Therell  be 
room  for  a  thousand  families  if  each  of  them  is  to  have  a  fair- 
sized  piece  of  land." 

They  then  went  in  and  took  the  whole  for  a  quarter  of  a 
miUion  (£14,000). 

**But  Ellen  \^  exclaimed  PeUe,  when  they  were  on  their  way 
home  again,    ^ow  are  we  going  to  come  to  terms  with  her?" 

^^less  my  soul!  Why,  it  was  her  business  we  went  upcm! 
And*  now  we've  done  business  for  ourselves  I  Well,  I  suppose 
shell  give  in  when  she  hears  whaf  s  been  done." 

'^'m  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Pelle,  laughing.  Perhaps 
when  you  tackle  her." 

^^eU,  did  you  get  the  house?"  asked  Ellen,  from  the  house 
door,  where  she  was  standing  to  receive  them. 

'TTes,  we  got  much  more,"  said  Brun  airily.  **We  bought 
the  whole  concern." 

^Is  that  a  fact,  Pelle?" 

Pelle  nodded. 

'^What  about  my  house  then?"  she  asked  slowly. 

^^eU,  we  bought  that  together  with  all  the  rest,"  said  Brun. 
^ut  as  £ir  as  that  goes  it  can  easily  be  separated  from  the  rest^ 
only  if s  rather  soon  to  break  up  the  cooperation  before  if s 
started."  He  waited  a  little,  expecting  that  EUen  would  say 
something,  and  when  she  continued  silent  he  went  on,  rather 
shortly:  ^^ell,  then  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said  about 
that?  Fair  play's  a  jewel,  and  to-morrow  111  make  arrange- 
ments for  the  conveyance  of  the  house  to  you  for  the  fifteen 
thousand  (£860) .  And  then  we  must  give  up  the  whole  concern, 
PeUe.  It  wont  do  for  the  man  at  the  head  of  it  to  live  on  his 
private  property ;  so  that  plan's  come  to  nothing  I" 

'T'niess  Ellen  and  I  live  in  separate  houses,"  said  PeDe 
slyly.  '1  might  build  just  the  other  side  of  the  boundary,  and 
then  we  could  nod  to  one  another  at  any  rate." 

Ellen  looked  at  him  gravely.  ^  only  think  if  s  rather 
strange  that  you  settle  my  affiiirs  without  asking  me  first,"  she 
said  at  length. 


* 


DAYBBEAE:  647 

^TTes,  it  was  inconsiderate  of  ns/'  answered  Brun^  "and  we 
hope  you^  forget  all  about  it.    You'll  give  up  the  house  then  ?'' 

^Tm  pretty  well  obliged  to  when  Pelle  threatens  to  move 
outy''  Ellen  answered  with  a  smile,  '^ut  I^  sorry  about  it. 
I'm  certain  that  in  a  short  time  thereM  have  been  money  to 
make  over  if 

^TiHl  be  nice,  won't  it^  if  the  women  are  going  to  move  into 
our  forsaken  snail-shells?''  said  Brun  half  seriously. 

"Ellen's  always  been  an  incorrigible  capitalist/'  FeUe  put  in. 

"Ifs  only  that  I've  never  had  so  much  money  that  I 
shouldn't  know  what  it  was  worth/'  answered  Ellen,  with  ready 
wit 

Old  Brun  laughed.  ^^That  was  one  for  Mr.  Brun  I"  he  said. 
^fBut  since  you've  such  a  desire  for  land-speculation^  Mistress 
Ellen,  I've  got  a  suggestion  to  make.  On  the  groimd' we've 
bought  there's  a  piece  of  meadow  that  lies  halfway  in  to  town, 
by  the  bog.  Well  give  you  that.  If  s  not  worth  anything  at 
present,  and  will  have  to  be  filled  in  to  be  of  any  value;  but  it 
won't  be  very  long  before  the  town  is  out  tiiere  wanting  more 
room." 

Ellen  had  no  objection  to  that,  ^^ut  then,"  she  said,  ^fl 
must  be  allowed  to  do  what  I  like  with  what  comes  out  of  it." 


-f  •' 


Thb  sun  held  out  well  that  year.  Bemnants  of  summer 
continued  to  hang  in  the  air  right  into  December.  Every  time 
they  had  bad  weather  Ellen  said,  'ITow  itTl  be  winter,  I*m 
sure!''  But  the  sim  put  it  aside  once  more;  it  went  far  down 
in  the  south  and  looked  straight  into  the  whole  sitting-room,  as 
if  it  were  going  to  count  the  pictures. 

The  large  yellow  Oloire  de  Dijon  went  on  flowering,  and 
every  day  Ellen  brought  in  a  large,  heavy  bunch  of  roses  and 
red  leaves.  She  was  heavy  herself,  and  the  fresh  cold  nipped 
her  nose — ^which  was  growing  sharper — and  reddened  her  cheeks. 
One  day  she  brought  a  large  bunch  to  Pelle,  and  asked  him: 
''How  much  money  am  I  going  to  get  to  keep  Christmas  with?" 

It  was  true  I    The  year  was  almost  ended ! 

After  the  new  year  winter  b^an  in  earnest.  It  began  with 
much  snow  and  frost,  and  made  it  a  difiicult  matter  to  keep  in 
communication  with  the  outside  world,  while  indoors  people 
drew  all  the  closer  to  one  another.  Anna  should  really  have 
been  going  to  school  now,  but  she  suffered  a  good  deal  from  the 
cold  and  was  altogether  not  very  strong,  so  Pelle  and  Ellen 
dared  not  expose  her  to  the  long  wading  through  the  snow,  and 
taught  her  tiiemselves. 

Ellen  had  become  a  little  lazy  about  walking,  and  seldom 
went  into  town ;  the  two  men  made  the  purchases  for  her  in  the 
evening  on  their  way  home.  It  was  a  dull  time,  and  no  work 
was  done  by  artificial  light,  so  they  were  home  early.  Ellen  had 
changed  the  dinner-hour  to  five,  so  that  they  could  all  have  it 
together.  After  dinner  Brun  generally  went  upstairs  to  work 
for  another  couple  of  hours.  He  was  busy  working  out  projectB 
for  the  building  on  the  Hill  Farm  land,  and  gave  Imnself  no 
rest.    Pelle's  wealth  of  ideas  and  energy  infected  him,  and  hia 

S48 


DAYBBEAE  649 

plans  grew  and  assumed  ever-increasing  dimensions.  He  gave 
no  consideration  to  his  weak  f  rame^  but  rose  early  and  worked 
all  day  at  the  affairs  of  the  cooperative  works.  He  seemed  to 
be  vying  with  Pelle's  youth^  and  to  be  in  constant  fear  that 
something  would  come  up  behind  him  and  interrupt  his  work. 

The  other  members  of  the  family  gathered  round  the  lamp, 
each  witii  some  occupation.  Boy  Comfort  had  his  toy-table  put 
up  and  was  hammering  indefatigably  with  his  little  wooden 
mallet  upon  a  piece  of  stuff  that  Ellen  had  put  between  to  pre- 
vent his  marking  the  table.  He  was  a  sturdy  little  f  ellow,  and 
the  fat  lay  in  creases  roimd  his  wrists.  The  wrinkles  on  his 
forehead  gave  him  a  funny  look  when  one  did  not  recall  the 
fact  that  he  had  cost  his  mother  her  life.  He  looked  as  if  he 
knew  it  himself^  he  was  so  serious.  He  had  leave  to  sit  up  for  a 
little  while  with  the  otibers^  but  he  went  to  bed  at  six. 

Lasse  Frederik  generally  drew  when  he  was  finished  with  his 
lessons.  He  had  a  turn  for  it^  and  Felle^  wondering^  saw  his 
own  gifty  out  of  which  nothing  had  ever  come  but  the  prison^ 
repeated  in  the  boy  in  an  improved  form.  He  showed  him  the 
way.  to  proceed,  and  held  the  pencU  once  more  in  his  own  hand. 
His  chief  occupation^  however,  was  teachmg  little  Anna,  and 
telling  her  anything  that  might  occur  to  him.  She  was  espe- 
cially fond  of  hearing  about  animals,  and  Pelle  had  plenty  of 
reminiscences  of  his  herding-time  from  which  to  draw. 

'^ave  animals  really  inielligence  ?''  asked  Ellen,  in  surprise. 
*Tou  really  believe  that  ihej  think  about  things  just  as  we  do  ?'* 

It  was  iiothing  new  to  Sister;  she  talked  every  day  to  the 
fowls  and  rabbits,  and  knew  how  wise  they  were. 

*T.  wonder  if  flowers  can  think  too,''  said  Lasse  Frederik. 
He  was  busy  drawing  a  flower  from  memory,  and  it  would  look 
like  a  face :  hence  the  remark. 

Pelle  thought  they  could. 

'*No,  no,  Pelle  1'*  said  EUen.  'TTou're  going  too  far  now  I 
Ifs  only  us  people  who  can  think.'' 

*'They  can  feel  at  any  rate,  and  that's  thinking  in  a  way,  I 
suppose,  only  with  the  heart  They  notice  at  once  if  you're  fond 
of  tiiem;  if  you  aren't  they  don't  thrive." 

'TTes,  I  do  believe  that,  for  if  you're  fond  of  them  you  take 
good  care  of  them,"  said  the  incorrigible  Ellen, 


660  PELLE  THE   CONQUEHOH 

^'m  not  80  finre  of  that>^  said  Pelle,  looking  at  her  teas- 
ingly.  'TTon're  very  fond  of  your  balsam,  but  a  gardener  would 
be  sure  to  tell  you  that  yon  treat  it  like  a  cabbage.  And  lode 
how  industriously  it  flowers  all  the  same.  They  answer  kind 
thoughts  with  gratitude,  and  that's  a  nice  way  of  thinking.  In- 
telligence isn't  perhaps  worth  as  much  as  we  human  beings 
imagine  it  to  be.  You  yourself  tiiink  with  your  heart,  little 
mother."   It  was  his  pet  name  for  her  just  now. 

After  a  little  interlude  such  as  this,  they  went  on  with  Iheir 
work.  Pelle  had  to  tell  Sister  all  about  the  animals  in  her 
alphabet-book — about  the  useful  cow  and  the  hare  that  licked 
the  dew  off  the  clover  and  leaped  up  under  the  rery  noee  of  the 
cowherd.  In  the  winter  it  went  into  the  garden,  gnawed  the 
bark  off  the  young  trees  and  ate  the  farmer's  wife's  cabbage. 
'HTes,  I  must  acknowledge  that,"  Ellen  interposed,  and  then 
they  all  laughed,  for  puss  had  just  eaten  her  kaiL 

Then  the  child  suddenly  left  the  subject,  and  wanted  to 
know  whether  there  had  always,  always  been  a  Copenhagen. 
Pelle  came  to  a  standstill  for  a  moment,  but  by  a  happy  inspira- 
tion dug  Bishop  Absalom  out  of  his  memory.  He  took  the  op- 
portunity of  telling  them  that  the  capital  had  a  population  of 
half  a  million. 

'TSave  you  counted  them,  father  ?"  exclaimed  Sister,  in  per- 
plexity, taking  hold  of  his  sleeve. 

*^Why,  of  course  father  hasn't,  you  little  donkey !"  said  Lasse 
Prederik.    *'One  might  be  bom  while  he  was  counting !" 

Then  they  were  at  the  cock  again,  which  both  b^an  and 
ended  the  book.  He  stood  and  crowed  so  proudly  and  never 
slept.  He  was  a  regular  prig,  but  when  Sister  was  diligent  he 
put  a  one-ore  piece  among  the  leaves.  But  the  hens  laid  ^gs, 
and  it  was  evident  that  they  were  the  same  as  the  flowers;  for 
when  you  were  kind  to  them  and  treated  them  as  if  they  be- 
longed to  the  family,  they  were  industrious  in  laying,  but  if 
you  built  a  model  house  for  them  and  treated  them  according 
to  all  established  rules,  they  did  not  even  earn  as  much  as  would 
pay  for  their  food.  At  Uncle  Kalle's  there  was  a  hen  that  came 
into  the  room  among  all  the  children  and  laid  its  egg  under  the 
bed  every  single  day  all  through  the  winter,  when  no  other  hens 
were  laying.    Then  the  farmer  of  Stone  Fkrm  bought  it  to  make 


DAYBEEAK  651 

something  by  it.  He  gave  twenty  kroner  (a  guinea)  for  it  and 
thought  he  had  got  a  gold  mine;  bnt  no  sooner  did  it  come  to 
Stone  Earm  than  it  left  off  laying  winter  eggs,  for  there  it  was 
not  one  of  the  f  amily^  but  was  only  a  hen  that  they  wanted  to 
make  money  out  of. 

'^Mother^s  balsam  flowers  all  the  winter/'  said  Sister^  looking 
fondly  at  the  plant 

^^es,  that's  because  it  sees  how  industrious  we  all  are,^  said 
Lasse  Frederik  mischievously. 

'^ill  you  be  quiet  !*'  said  Pelle,  hitting  out  at  him, 

Ellen  sat  knitting  some  tiny  socks.  Her  glance  moved  lin- 
geringly  from  one  to  another  of  them,  and  she  smiled  in- 
dulgently at  their  chatter.    They  were  just  a  lot  of  children ! 

^'Motiier,  may  I  have  those  for  my  doll?''  asked  Anna^  taking 
up  the  finished  sock. 

'^0,  little  sister's  to  have  them  when  she  comes." 

'?f  it  is  a  girl,"  put  in  Lasse  Frederik. 

''When's  little  sister  coming?" 

'?n  the  spring  when  the  stork  comes  back  to  the  farm;  he'll 
bring  her  with  him." 

^Tooh!  The  stork  1"  said  Lasse  Frederik  contemptuously. 
**What  a  pack  of  nonsense  I" 

Sister  too  was  wiser  than  that.  When  the  weather  was  fine 
she  fetched  milk  from  the  farm,  and  had  learned  a  few  things 
there. 

**Now  you  must  go  to  bed,  my  child,"  said  Ellen,  rising. 
*1  can  see  you're  tired."  When  she  had  helped  the  child  into 
bed  she  came  back  and  sat  down  again  with  her  knitting. 

^ow  I  think  you  should  leave  off  work  for  to-day,"  said 
Pelle. 

'*Then  I  shouldn't  be  ready  in  time,"  answered  Ellen,  mov- 
ing her  knitting-needles  more  swiftly. 

**Send  it  to  a  machine-knitter.  You  don't  even  earn  your 
bread  anyhow  with  that  handicraft;  and  there  must  be  a  time 
for  work  and  a  time  for  rest,  or  else  you'd  not  be  a  human 
being." 

^'Mother  can  make  three  ore  (nearly  a  halfpenny)  an  hour 
by  knitting,"  said  Lasse  Frederik,  who  had  made  a  careful 
calculation. 


562  PELLE  THE   GONQUEBOH 

What  did  it  matter?  Ellen  did  not  think  she  ni^lected 
anything  else  in  doing  it. 

"It  is  stupid  though  I*'  exclaimed  Lasse  Prederik  suddenly. 
''Why  doesn't  wool  grow  on  one's  legs  ?  Then  you'd  have  none 
of  the  bother  of  shearing  the  wool  off  sheep^  carding  it,  spinning 
it,  and  knitting  stockings." 

"Oh,  what  nonsense  you're  talking  I"  said  Ellen,  laughing. 

"Well,  men  were  hairy  once,"  Lasse  Prederik  continued.  'It 
was  a  great  pity  that  they  didn't  go  on  being  it !" 

Pelle  did  not  think  it  such  a  pity,  for  it  meant  that  they 
had  taken  over  the  care  of  themselves.  Animals  were  bom  fully 
equipped.  Even  water-haters  like  cats  and  hens  were  bom  wi& 
the  power  of  swimming;  but  men  had  to  acquire  whatever  they 
had  a  use  for.  Nature  did  not  equip  them,  because  they  had 
become  responsible  for  themselves;  they  were  the  lords  of 
creation. 

"But  then  the  poor  ought  to  be  hairy  all  over  their  bodies," 
Ellen  objected.  "Why  doesnt  Nature  take  as  much  care  of  the 
poor  as  of  the  animals?    They  can't  do  it  t.  luselves." 

"Yes,  but  thaf s  just  what  they  coun  do !"  said  Pelle,  "for  ifs 
they  who  produce  most  things.  Perhaps  you  think  it's  money 
that  cultivates  the  land,  or  weaves  materials,  or  drags  coal  out 
of  the  earth?  It  had  to  leave  that  alone;  all  the  capital  in  the 
world  can't  so  much  as  pick  up  a  pin  from  the  ground  if  there 
are  no  hands  that  it  can  pay  to  do  it.  If  the  poor  were  bom 
hairy,  it  would  simply  stamp  him  as  an  inferior  being.  Isn't 
it  a  wonder  that  Nature  obstinately  lete  the  poor  men's  children 
be  bom  just  as  naked  as  the  king's,  in  spite  of  all  that  we've 
gone  through  of  want  and  hardship?  If  you  exchange  the 
prince's  and  the  beggar's  new-bom  babies,  no  one  can  say  which 
is  which.  Ifs  as  if  Providence  was  never  tired  of  holding  our 
stamp  of  nobility  up  before  us." 

"bo  you  really  think  then  that  the  world  can  be  trans- 
formed ?"  said  Ellen,  looking  affectionately  at  him.  It  seemed 
so  wonderful  that  this  Pelle,  whom  she  could  take  in  her  arms, 
occupied  himself  with  such  great  matters.  And  Pelle  looked 
back  at  her  affectionately  and  wonderingly.  She  was  the  same 
te-day  as  on  the  day  he  first  got  to  know  her,  perhaps  as  the 
day  the  world  was  created !    She  put  nothing  out  on  usury,  but 


DATBBEAK  663 

liad  been  bom  with  all  she  had.  The  world  oonld  indeed  be 
transformed^  but  she  would  always  remain  as  she  was. 

The  post  brought  a  letter  from  Morten.  He  was  staying  at 
present  in  Sicily^  and  thought  of  travelling  along  the  north  coast 
of  Africa  to  the  south  of  Spain.  ^'And  I  may  make  an  excur- 
sion in  to  the  borders  of  the  Desert^  and  try  what  riding  on  a 
camel  is  like/'  he  wrote.  He  was  well  and  in  good  spirits.  It 
was  strange  to  think  that  he  was  writing  with  open  doors,  while 
here  they  were  struggling  with  the  cold.  He  drank  wine  at 
every  meal  just  as  you  drank  pale  ale  here  at  home;  and  he 
wrote  that  tiie  olive  and  orange  harvests  were  just  over. 

'It  must  be  lovely  to  be  in  such  a  place  just  for  once  1^  said 
Ellen,  with  a  sigh. 

''When  the  new  conditions  gain  a  footing,  it^  no  longer  be 
among  unattainable  things  for  the  working-man/'  Felle  an- 
swered. 

Brun  now  came  down,  having  at  last  finished  his  work. 
"Ah,  it's  good  to  be  at  home!"  he  said,  shaking  himself;  'Ifs 
a  stormy  night." 

''Here's  a  letter  from  Morten/'  said  Pelle,  handing  it  to 
him. 

The  old  man  put  on  his  spectacles. 


As  soon  as  it  was  possible  to  get  at  the  ground^  the  work  of 
excavating  for  the  foundations  of  the  new  workmen's  houses 
was  began  with  full  vigor.  Bmn  took  a  great  interest  in  the 
work,  and  watched  it  out  in  the  cold  from  morning  till  evening. 
He  wore  an  extra  great-coat,  and  woollen  gloves  ontside  his  far- 
lined  ones.  Ellen  had  knitted  him  a  large  scarf,  which  he  was 
to  wrap  round  his  month.  She  kept  an  eye  on  him  from  tiie 
windows,  and  had  to  fetch  him  in  every  now  and  then  to  thaw 
him.  It  was  quite  impossible,  however,  to  keep  him  in ;  he  was 
far  too  eager  for  the  work  to  progress.  When  the  frost  stopped 
it,  he  still  wandered  about  out  there,  fidgety  and  in  low  spirits. 

On  weekdays  PeUe  was  never  at  home  in  daylight,  but  on 
Sunday  he  had  to  go  out  with  him  and  see  what  had  bcNsn  done, 
as  soon  as  day  dawned.  The  old  man  came  and  knocked  at 
Pelle's  door.  '*Well,  PeUe  I''  he  said.  '*Will  you  soon  be  out 
ofbed?*' 

^e  must  reaUy  be  aUowed  to  lie  there  while  he  has  his 
coffee !''  cried  Ellen  from  the  kitchen. 

Bmn  ran  once  round  the  house  to  pass  the  time.  He  was 
not  happy  until  he  had  shown  it  all  to  Pelle  and  got  him  to 
approve  of  the  alterations.  This  was  where  he  had  tibought  "Qie 
road  should  go.  And  there,  where  the  roads  crossed,  a  little 
park  with  statuary  would  look  nice.  New  ideas  were  ahraya 
springing  up.  The  librarian's  imagination  conjured  up  a  whole 
town  from  the  bare  fields,  with  free  schools  and  theaters  and 
comfortable  dwellings  for  the  aged,  ^^e  must  have  a  supply 
association  and  a  school  at  once,"  he  said;  ''and  by  degrees,  aa 
our  numbers  increase,  we  shall  get  all  the  rest.  A  poor-house 
and  a  prison  are  the  only  things  I  don't  think  we  shall  have 
any  use  for." 

6S4 


DAYBBEAK  655 

They  would  spend  the  whole  morning  out  there,  walking 
about  and  laying  plans.  Ellen  had  to  fetch  them  in  when 
dinner-time  came.  She  generally  found  them  standing .  over 
some  hole  in  earnest  conversation — ^just  an  ordinary,  square  hole 
in  the  earth,  with  mud  or  ice  at  the  bottom.  Such  holes  were 
always  dug  for  houses;  but  these  two  talked  about  them  as  if 
they  were  the  beginning  of  an  entirely  new  earth  I 

Brun  missed  Pelle  during  the  day,  and  watched  for  him 
quite  as  eagerly  as  Ellen  when  the  time  came  for  him  to  re- 
turn from  work.  '?  shall  soon  be  quite  jealous  of  him,''  said 
Ellen,  as  she  drew  Pelle  into  the  kitchen  to  give  him  her  even- 
ing greeting  in  private.  ^11  he  could  he'd  take  you  quite  away 
from  me." 

When  Pelle  had  been  giving  a  lecture,  he  generally  came 
home  after  Brun  had  gone  to  rest,  and  in  the  morning  when  he 
left  home  the  old  man  was  not  up.  Brun  never  went  to  town. 
He  laid  the  blame  on  the  weather,  but  in  reality  he  did  not 
know  what  he  would  do  with  himself  in  there.  But  if  a  couple 
of  days  passed  without  his  seeing  Pelle,  he  became  restless,  lost 
interest  in  the  excavating,  and  wandered  about  feebly  without 
doing  anything.  Then  he  would  suddenly  put  on  his  boots,  ex- 
cuse himself  with  some  pressing  errand,  and  set  off  over  the 
fields  toward  the  tram,  while  Ellen  stood, at  the  window  watch- 
ing him  with  a  tender  smile.    She  knew  what  was  drawing  him  I 

One  would  have  thought  there  were  ties  of  blood  between 
these  two,  so  dependent  were  they  on  one  another,  ^^ow's  the 
old  man?"  was  Pelle's  first  question  on  entering;  and  Brun 
could  not  have  followed  Pelle's  movements  with  tenderer  ad- 
miration in  his  old  days  if  he  had  been  his  father.  While 
Pelle  was  away  the  old  man  went  about  as  if  he  were  always 
looking  for  something. 

Ellen  did  not  like  his  being  out  among  the  navvies  in  all 
kinds  of  weather.  In  the  evening  the  warmth  of  the  room  af- 
fected his  lungs  and  made  him  cough  badly. 

'^fll  end  in  a  regular  cold,"  she  said.  She  wanted  him  to 
stay  in  bed  for  a  few  days  and  try  to  get  rid  of  the  cold  before 
it  took  a  firm  hold. 

It  was  a  constant  subject  of  argument  between  them,  but 
Ellen  did  not  give  in  until  she  got  her  way.   When  once  he  had 


866  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

made  this  concession  to  the  cold^  it  came  on  in  earnest.  The 
warmth  of  bed  thawed  the  cold  ont  of  his  body  and  made  both 
eyes  and  nose  run. 

*^f  8  a  good  thing  we  got  yon  to  bed  in  time/'  said  Ellen. 
^'And  now  you  won't  be  allowed  up  nntil  the  worst  cold  weather 
is  over,  even  if  I  have  to  hide  yonr  clothes/'  She  tended  him 
like  a  child  and  made  ''camel  tea"  for  him  from  flowers  that 
she  had  gathered  and  dried  in  the  summer. 

When  once  he  had  gone  to  bed  he  quite  liked  it  and  took 
delight  in  being  waited  on^  discovering  a  need  of  all  kinds  of 
things,  so  as  to  receive  them  from  Ellen's  hands. 

'ITow  you're  making  yourself  out  worse  than  you  are  I**  she 
said,  laughing  at  him. 

Brun  laughed  too.  'TTou  see,  I've  never  been  petted  before," 
he  said.  ''From  the  time  I  was  bom,  my  parents  hired  people 
to  look  after  me;  thafs  why  I'm  so  shrivelled  up.  I've  had  to 
buy  everything.  "Well,  there's  a  certain  amount  of  justice  in 
the  fact  that  money  kills  affection,  or  else  you'd  both  eat  your 
cake  and  have  it" 

"Yes,  if s  a  good  thing  the  best  can't  be  had  for  money," 
said  Ellen,  tucking  the  clothes  about  his  feet  He  was  propped 
up  with  pillows,  so  that  he  could  lie  there  and  work.  He  had  a 
map  of  the  Hill  Farm  land  beside  him,  and  was  making  plans 
for  a  systematic  laying  out  of  the  ground  for  building.  He 
wrote  down  his  ideas  about  it  in  a  book  that  was  to  be  appended 
to  the  plans.  He  worked  from  sunrise  until  the  middle  of  the 
day,  and  during  that  time  it  was  all  that  Ellen  could  do  to  keep 
the  children  away  from  him;  Boy  Comfort  was  on  his  way  up 
to  the  old  man  every  few  minutes. 

In  the  afternoon,  when  she  had  finished  in  the  kitchen,  she 
took  the  children  up  for  an  hour.  They  were  given  a  picture- 
book  and  were  placed  at  Brun's  large  writing-table,  while  Ellen 
seated  herself  by  the  window  with  her  knitting  and  talked  to 
the  old  man.  From  her  seat  she  could  follow  the  work  out  on 
the  field,  and  had  to  give  him  a  full  description  of  how  far 
tiiey  had  got  with  each  plot. 

There  were  always  several  hundred  men  out  there  standing 
watching  the  work — a  shivering  crowd  that  never  diminished. 
They  were  unemployed  who  had  heard  that  something  was  going 


DAYBREAK  657 

on  out  here^  and  long  before  the  dawn  of  day  they  were  stand- 
ing there  in  the  hope  of  coming  in  for  something.  All  day 
they  streamed  in  and  out^  an  endless  chain  of  sad  men.  They 
resembled  prisoners  condemned  hopelessly  to  tread  a  huge  wheel; 
there  was  a  broad  track  across  the  fields  where  they  went. 

Brun  was  troubled  by  the  thought  of  these  thousands  of 
men  who  came  all  this  way  to  look  for  a  day^s  work  and  had  to 
go  back  with  a  refusal,  '^e  can't  take  more  men  on  than  there 
are  already/'  he  said  to  Pelle,  ^'or  they'll  only  get  in  one  an- 
other's way.  But  perhaps  we  could  begin  to  carry  out  some  of 
our  plans  for  the  future.  Can't  we  begin  to  make  roads  and 
such  like,  so  that  these  men  can  get  something  to  do  ?" 

No,  Pelle  dared  not  agree  to  that. 

'?n  the  spring  we  shall  want  capital  to  start  the  tanners 
with  a  cooperative  tannery,"  he  said.  'It'll  be  agreed  on  in 
their  Union  at  an  early  date,  on  the  presupposition  that  we  con- 
tribute money;  and  I  consider  it  very  important  to  get  it 
started.  Our  opponents  find  fault  with  us  for  getting  our  ma- 
terials from  abroad.  It's  untenable  in  the  long  run,  and  must 
come  to  an  end  now.  As  it  is,  the  factory's  hanging  in  the  air; 
they  can  cut  us  off  from  the  supply  of  materials,  and  then  we're 
done.  But  if  we  only  have  our  own  tannery,  the  one  business 
can  be  carried  out  thoroughly  and  can't  be  smashed  up,  and 
then  we're  ready  to  meet  a  lock-out  in  the  trade." 

'The  hides j"  interpolated  Brun. 

'There  we  come  to  agriculture.  That's  already  arranged 
cooperatively,  and  will  certainly  not  be  used  against  us.  We 
must  anyhow  join  in  there  as  soon  as  ever  we  get  started — buy 
cattle  and  kill,  ourselves,  so  that  besides  the  hides  we  provide 
ourselves  with  good,  cheap  meat." 

'TTes,  yes,  but  the  tannery  won't  swallow  everything!  "We 
can  afford  to  do  some  road-making." 

"No,  we  can't !"  Pelle  declared  decisively.  'Tlemember  we've 
also  got  to  think  of  the  supply  associations,  or  else  all  our  work 
is  useless;  the  one  thing  leads  to  the  other.  There's  too  much 
depending  on  what  we're  doing,  and  we  mustn't  hamper  our 
undertaking  with  dead  values  that  will  drag  it  down.  First  the 
men  and  then  the  roads!  The  unemployed  to-day  must  take 
care  of  themselves  without  our  help." 


^ 


668  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

'Tou're  a  little  hard,  I  think/'  said  Brun,  scnnewhat  hurt  at 
Pelle's  finnnesSy  and  dramming  on  the  qnilt  with  his  fingers. 

''If 8  not  the  first  time  that  I've  been  blamed  for  it  in  this 
connection/'  answered  Pelle  grayely;  ''bat  I  most  put  up 
with  it" 

The  old  man  held  on^  his  hand.  "I  b^  yoor  pardon!  It 
wasn't  my  intention  to  find  faolt  with  yoa  becaase  yoa  don't  act 
thoughtlessly.  Of  coarse  we  mustn't  give  up  the  victory  out  of 
sympathy  with  those  who  fight.  It  was  only  a  momentary  weak- 
ness, but  a  weakness  that  might  spoil  everything — ^that  I  must 
admit!  But  ifs  not  so  easy  to  be  a  passive  spectator  of  fheee 
topsy-turvy  conditions.  Ifs  affirmed  that  the  workmen  prefer 
to  receive  a  starvation  allowance  to  doing  any  work;  and  judg- 
ing by  what  they've  hitherto  got  out  of  their  work  ifs  easy  to 
understand  that  ifs  true.  But  during  the  month  that  the  ex- 
cavations here  have  been  going  on,  at  least  a  thousand  unon- 
ployed  have  come  every  day  ready  to  turn  to;  and  we  pay  them 
for  refraining  from  doing  anything!  They  can  at  a  pinch  re- 
ceive support,  but  at  no  price  obtain  work.  Ifs  as  insane  as  ifs 
possible  to  be!  You  feel  you'd  like  to  give  the  machinery  a 
little  push  and  set  it  going  again." 

'^t  wants  a  good  big  push,"  said  Pelle.  'They're  not  trifles 
that  are  in  the  way." 

"They  look  absurdly  small,  at  any  rate.  The  workmen  are 
not  in  want  because  tiiey're  out  of  work,  as  our  social  econ- 
omists want  us  to  believe;  but  they're  out  of  work  because 
they're  in  want.  What  a  putting  of  the  cart  before  the  horse! 
The  procession  of  the  unemployed  is  a  disgrace  to  the  commu- 
nity; what  a  waste — also  from  a  purely  mercantile  point  of 
view — ^while  the  country  and  the  nation  are  neglected!  If  a 
private  business  were  conducted  on  such  principles,  it  would  be 
doomed  from  the  very  first" 

"If  the  pitiable  condition  arose  only  from  a  wrong  grasp  of 
things,  it  would  be  easily  corrected,"  said  Pelle;  *T)ut  the  people 
who  settle  the  whole  thing  can't  at  any  rate  be  charged  with  a 
lack  of  mercantile  perception.  It  would  be  a  good  thing  if 
they  had  the  rest  in  as  good  order !  Believe  me,  not  a  sparrow 
falls  to  the  ground  imless  it  is  to  the  advantage  of  Hie  money- 
power;  if  it  paid,  in  a  mercantile  sense,  to  have  counfay  and 


DAYBBEAK  659 

people  in  perfect  order,  it  would  take  good  care  that  they  were 
so.  Bnt  it  simply  can^t  be  done;  the  welfare  of  the  many  and 
the  accumulation  of  property  by  the  few  are  irreconcilable  con- 
tradictions. I  think  there  is  a  wonderful  balance  in  humanity, 
so  that  at  any  time  it  can  produce  exactly  enough  to  satisfy  all 
its  requirements;  and  when  one  claims  too  much,  others  let  go* 
Ifs  on  that  understanding  indeed  that  we  want  to  remoye  tiie 
others  and  take  over  the  management.'' 

'TTes,  yes  I  I  didn't  mean  that  I  wanted  to  protect  the  ex- 
isting state  of  affairs.  Let  those  who  make  the  venture  take 
the  responsibility.  But  I've  been  wondering  whether  we  couldn't 
find  a  way  to  gather  up  all  this  waste  so  that  it  should  benefit 
the  cooperative  works?" 

*^ow  could  we  ?  We  catCt  afford  to  give  occupation  to  the 
unemployed." 

'^ot  for  wages !  But  both  the  Movement  and  the  commu- 
nity have  begun  to  support  them,  and  what  would  be  more  nat- 
urid  than  that  one  required  work  of  them  in  return?  Only, 
remember,  letting  it  benefit  them  1" 

^Tou  mean  that,  for  instance,  unemployed  bricklayers  and 
carpenters  should  build  houses  for  the  workmen?"  asked  Pelle, 
with  animation. 

^es,  as  an  instance.  But  the  houses  should  be  ensured 
against  private  speculation,  in  the  same  way  as  those  we're 
building,  and  always  belong  to  the  workmen.  As  we  can't  be 
suspected  of  trying  to  make  profits,  we  should  be  suitable  people 
for  its  management,  and  it  would  help  on  the  cooperative  com- 
pany. In  that  way  the  refuse  of  former  times  would  fertilize 
the  new  seed." 

Pelle  sat  lost  in  thought,  and  llie  old  man  lay  and  looked  at 
him  in  suspense,  ^^ell,  are  you  asleep  ?"  he  adced  at  last  im- 
patiently. 

^f  s  a  fine  idea,"  said  Pelle,  raising  his  head.  ^^  think  we 
should  get  the  organizations  on  our  side ;  they're  already  begin- 
ning to  be  interested  in  cooperation.  When  the  committee  sits, 
111  lay  your  plan  before  them.  I'm  not  so  sure  of  the  commu- 
nity, however.  Brunt  They  have  occasional  use  for  the  great 
hunger-reserve,  so  theyTl  go  on  just  keeping  life  in  it ;  if  they 
hadn't,  it  would  soon  be  allowed  to  die  of  hunger.   I  don't  think 


560  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOB 

they^  agree  to  have  it  employed^  so  to  speak^  against  them- 
selyes.'' 

You're  an  incorrigible  pessimist !''  said  Brun  a  little 
irritably. 

^eSy  as  regards  the  old  state  of  things,''  answered  PeUe, 
with  a  smile. 

Thus  they  would  discuss  the  possibilities  for  the  future  in 
connection  with  the  events  of  the  day  when  Pelle  sat  beside  the 
old  man  in  the  evening,  both  of  them  engrossed  in  the  subject. 
Sometimes  the  old  man  felt  that  he  ran  off  the  lines,  ^fs  the 
blood/'  he  said  despondently,  ^'m  not,  after  all,  quite  one  of 
you.  Ifs  so  long  since  one  of  my  family  worked  witii  his  hands 
that  I've  forgotten  it" 

During  this  time  he  often  touched  upon  his  past,  and  every 
evening  had  something  to  tell  about  hiniself  .  It  was  as  though 
he  were  determined  to  find  a  law  that  would  place  him  by 
Pelle's  side. 

Brun  belonged  to  an  old  family  that  could  be  traced  back 
several  hundred  years  to  the  captain  of  a  ship,  who  traded  with 
the  Tranquebar  coast  The  founder  of  the  family,  who  was  also 
a  whaler  and  a  pirate,  lived  in  a  house  on  one  of  the  Kristian- 
shavn  canals.  When  his  ship  was  at  home,  she  lay  to  at  the 
wharf  just  outside  his  street-door.  The  Bruns'  house  descended 
from  father  to  son,  and  was  gradually  enlarged  until  it  became 
quite  a  mansion.  In  the  course  of  four  generations  .it  had  be- 
come one  of  the  largest  trading-houses  of  the  capitaL  At  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  cen-' 
tury,  most  of  the  members  of  the  family  had  gone  over  into  the 
world  of  stockbrokers  and  bankers,  and  thence  the  changes  went 
still  further.  Brun's  father,  the  well-known  Komelius  Brun, 
stuck  to  the  old  business,  his  brothers  making  over  their  share 
to  him  and  entering  the  diplomatic  service,  one  of  them  receiv- 
ing a  high  Court  appointment 

Komelius  Brun  felt  it  his  duty  to  carry  on  the  old  business, 
and  in  order  to  keep  on  a  level  with  his  brothers  as  regarded 
rank,  he  married  a  lady  of  noble  birth  from  Funen,  of  a  very 
old  family  heavily  burdened  with  debt  She  bore  him  three 
children,  all  of  whom — as  he  himself  said — ^were  failures.  The 
first  child  was  a  deaf  mute  with  very  small  intellectual  powers. 


DATBBEAK  661 

It  fortunately  died  before  it  attained  to  man's  estate.  Ntunber 
two  was  very  intelligent  and  endowed  with  every  talent,  but 
even  as  a  boy  exhibited  perverse  tendencies.  He  was  very 
handsome^  had  sof  t^  dark  hair^  and  a  delicate^  womanish  com- 
plexion. His  mother  dressed  him  in  velvet,  and  idolized  him. 
He  never  did  anything  useful,  but  went  about  in  fine  company 
and  spent  large  sums  of  money.  In  his  fortieth  year  he  died 
suddenly,  a  physical  and  moral  wreck.  The  annoimcement  of 
the  death  gave  a  stroke  as  the  cause;  but  the  truth  was  that 
rumors  had  b^un.  to  circulate  of  a  scandal  in  which  he  was  im- 
plicated together  with  some  persons  of  high  standing.  It  was 
at  the  end  of  the  seventies,  at  the  time  when  the  lower  class 
movement  began  to  gather  way.  An  energetic  investigation  was 
demanded  from  below,  and  it  was  considered  inadvisable  to  hush 
the  story  up  altogether,  for  fear  of  giving  support  to  the  asser- 
tion of  the  rottenness  and  onesidedness  of  tiie  existing  condi- 
tions. When  an  investigation  became  inmiinent,  and  it  was 
evident  that  Brun  would  be  offered  up  upon  the  altar  of  the 
multitude  in  order  to  shield  those  who  stood  higher,  Komelius 
Brun  put  a  pistol  into  his  son's  hand— or  shot  him;  the  li- 
brarian was  unable  to  say  which. 

**Tho8e  were  two  of  the  fruits  upon  the  decaying  family 
tree,"  said  Brun  bitterly,  ''and  it  can't  be  denied  that  they  were 
rather  worm-eaten.  The  third  was  myself.  I  came  fifteen  years 
after  my  youngest  brother.  By  that  time  my  parents  had  had 
enough  of  their  progeny;  at  any  rate,  I  was  considered  from 
the  beginning  to  be  a  hopeless  failure,  even  before  I  had  had  an 
opportunity  of  showing  anything  at  all.  Perhaps  they  felt  in- 
stinctively that  I  should  take  a  wrong  direction  too.  In  me  too 
the  disintegrating  forces  predominated;  I  was  greatly  deficient, 
for  instance,  in  family  feeling.  I  remember  when  still  quite 
little  hearing  my  mother  complain  of  my  plebeian  tendencies ;  I 
always  kept  with  the.  servants,  and  took  their  part  against  my 
parents.  My  family  looked  more  askance  at  me  for  upholding 
the  rights  of  our  inferiors  than  they  had  done  at  the  idiot  who 
tore  everything  to  pieces,  or  the  spendthrift  who  made  scandals 
and  got  into  debt.  And  I  dare  say  with  good  reason  I  Mother 
gave  me  plenty  of  money  to  amuse  myself  with,  probably  to 
counteract  my  plebeian  tendencies;  but  I  had  soon  done  with 


562  PELLE  THE  CONQUEBOB 

the.  pleasures  and  devoted  myself  to  stady.  Things  of  the  day 
did  not  interest  me^  but  even  as  a  boy  I  had  a  T^narkable  de- 
sire to  look  back;  I  devoted  myself  especially  to  history  and  its 
philosophy.  Father  was  right  when  he  derided  me  and  called 
it  going  into  a  monastery;  at  an  age  when  other  yonng  men  are 
lovers,  I  could  not  find  any  woman  that  interested  me,  while 
almost  any  book  tempted  me  to  a  closer  acquaintance.  For  a 
long  time  he  hoped  that  I  would  think  better  of  it  and  take 
over  the  business,  and  when  I  definitely  chose  study,  it  came  to 
a  quarrel  between  us.  'When  the  business  comes  to  an  end, 
theore's  an  end  of  the  family !'  he  said,  and  sold  the  whole  con- 
cern. He  had  been  a  widower  then  for  several  years,  and  had" 
only  me;  but  during  the  five  years  that  he  lived  after  selling 
the  business  we  didn't  see  one  another.  He  hated  me  because 
I  didn't  take  it  over,  but  what  could  I  have  done  with  it?  I 
possessed  none  of  the  qualities  necessary  for  the  carrying  on  of 
business  in  our  day,  and  should  only  have  ruined  the  v^ole 
thing.  From  the  time  I  was  thirty,  my  time  has  been  passed 
among  bookshelves,  and  I've  registered  the  lives  and  doings  of 
others.  If  s  only  now  that  I've  come  out  into  the  daylight  and 
am  beginning  to  live  my  own  life ;  and  now  if  11  soon  be  ended  P 

"If s  only  now  that  life's  beginning  to  be  worth  living,"  said 
Pelle,  **80  you've  come  out  just  at  the  right  time." 

^'Ah,  no !"  said  Brun  despondently,  '^'m  not  in  the  ascend- 
ant! I  meet  young  men  and  my  mind  inclines  to  them;  but  ifs 
like  evening  and  morning  meeting  in  the  same  glow  during  the 
light  nights.  I've  only  got  my  share  in  the  new  because  the 
old  must  bend  to  it,  so  tibat  the  ring  may  be  completed.  You 
go  in  where  I  go  out." 

*^t  must  have  been  a  melancholy  existence  to  be  always 
among  books,  books,  without  a  creature  that  cared  for  you,"  put 
in  Ellen.  '*Why  didn't  you  marry?  Surely  we  women  aren't  so 
terrible  that  there  mightn't  have  been  one  thsi  you  liked  ?" 

''No,  you'd  think  not,  but  ifs  true  nevertheless,"  answered 
Brun,  with  a  smile.  *  "The  antipathy  was  mutual  too;  ifs  al- 
ways like  that.  I  suppose  it  wasn't  intended  that  an  old  feUow 
like  me  should  put  children  into  the  world  I  Ifs  not  nice, 
though,  to  be  the  end  of  something." 

Ellen  laughed.    "Yes,  but  you  haven't  always  been  old  I" 


DAYBBEAK  563 

^eB,  I  have  leally;  I  was  bom  old.  I'm  only  now  begin* 
ning  to  feel  young.  And  who  knows?''  he  exclaimed  with  grim 
hunor.  ^  may  play  Providence  a  trick  and  make  my  appear- 
ance some  day  with  a  little  wife  on  my  arm." 

^nm's  indulging  in  fancies/'  said  Pelle,  as  they  went  down 
to  bed.    ^^ut  I  suppose  they'll  go  when  he's  about  again." 

^e's  not  had  much  of  a  time^  poor  old  soul !"  said  Ellen, 
going  closer  to  Pelle.  ^?f  s  a  shame  that  there  are  people  who 
get  no  share  in  all  the  love  there  is — ^just  as  great  a  shame  as 
what  you're  working  against,  I  think !" 

'Tes,  but  we  can't  put  that  straight  I"  exclaimed  Pelle, 
laughing. 


Ik  fhe  garden  at  '^ajbreak^  the  snow  was  disappearing 
from  day  to  day.  First  it  went  away  nearest  the  honse,  and 
gave  place  to  a  little  forest  of  snowdrops  and  crocuses.  The 
hyacinths  in  the  grass  began  to  break  through  the  earth,  com- 
ing up  like  a  row  of  knuckles  that  first  knocked  at  the  door. 

The  children  were  always  out  watching  the  progress  made. 
They  could  not  understa:nd  how  the  delicate  crocus  could  push 
straight  up  out  of  the  frozen  ground  without  freezing  to  deaths 
but  died  when  it  came  into  the  warm  room.  Every  day  they 
wrapped  some  snowdrops  in  paper  and  laid  them  on  Bran's 
table — ^they  were  *'snowdrop-letters^ — and  then  hovered  about 
in  ungovernable  excitement  until  he  came  in  from  the  fields, 
when  they  met  him  with  an  air  of  mystery,  and  did  all  they 
could  to  entice  him  upstairs. 

Out  in  the  fields  they  were  nearly  finished  with  the  excava- 
tions, and  were  only  waiting  for  the  winter  water  to  sink  in 
order  to  cart  up  gravel  and  stone  and  begin  the  foundations ;  the 
ground  was  too  soft  as  yet. 

Old  Bran  was  not  so  active  now  after  his  confinement  to 
bed ;  although  there  was  npt  much  the  matter  with  him,  it  had 
weakened  him.  He  allowed  Pelle  a  free  hand  with  the  works, 
and  said  Yea  and  Amen  to  everything  he  proposed.  **I  can't 
keep  it  all  in  my  head,"  he  would  say  when  PeUe  came  to  sug- 
gest some  alteration ;  '%ut  just  xlo  as  you  like,  my  son,  and  ifs 
sure  to  be  righf  There  were  not  enough  palpable  happenings 
down  there  to  keep  his  mind  aglow,  and  he  was  too  old  to  hear 
it  grow  and  draw  strength  from  that.  His  faith,  however, 
merely  shifted  from  the  Cause  over  to  Pelle;  he  saw  him  alive 
before  him,  and  could  lean  upon  his  youthful  vigor. 

664 


DAYBBEAK  665 

He  had  given  up  his  work  on  the  plans.  He  could  not  keep 
at  it^  and  contented  himself  with  going  the  round  of  the  fields 
two  or  three  times  a  day  and  watching  the  men.  The  sudden 
flame  of  energy  that  PeUe's  youth  had  called  to  life  within  him 
had  died  down^  leaving  a  pathetic  old  man,  who  had  been  out 
in  the  cold  all  his  life,  and  was  now  luxuriating  in  a  few  late 
rays  of  evening  sun.  He  no  longer  measured  himself  by  Pelle, 
and  was  not  jealous  of  his  taking  the  lead  in  anything,  but 
simply  admired  him  and  kept  carefully  within  the  circle  of 
those  for  whom  Pelle  acted  providence.  Ellen  treated  him  like 
a  big  child  who  needed  a  great  deal  of  care,  and  the  children  of 
course  looked  upon  him  as  their  equaL 

When  he  went  his  round  of  the  fields,  he  generally  had  Boy 
Comfort  by  the  hand;  the  two  could  both  keep  pace  with  one 
another  and  converse  together.  There  was  one  thing  that  inter- 
ested them  both  and  kept  them  in  great  excitement.  The  stork 
was  expected  every  day  back  at  the  Hill  Farm,  and  when  it  came 
it  would  bring  a  baby  to  Mother  Ellen.  The  expectation  was 
not  an  unmixed  pleasure.  The  stork  always  bit  the  mother  in 
the  leg  when  he  came  with  a  baby  for  her.  Boy  Comfort^s  own 
mother  died  of  the  bite;  he  was  wise  enough  to  know  that  now. 
The  little  fellow  looked  upon  Ellen  as  his  mother,  and  went 
about  in  a  serious,  almost  depressed,  mood.  He  did  not  talk  to 
the  other  children  of  his  anxiety,  for  fear  they  would  make  fun 
of  him;  but  when  he  and  the  old  man  walked  together  in  the 
fields  they  discussed  the  matter,  and  Brun,  as  the  older  and 
wiser,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  no  danger.  All 
the  same,  they  always  kept  near  the  house  so  as  to  be  at  hand. 

One  day  Pelle  stayed  at  home  from  work,  and  Ellen  did  not 
get  up  as  usual.  *Tm  going  to  lie  here  and  wait  for  the  stork,*' 
she  said  to  Boy  Comfort.  **Go  out  and  watch  for  if  The 
little  boy  took  a  stick,  and  he  and  Brun  tramped  round  the 
house;  and  when  they  heard  Ellen  cry  out,  they  squeezed  one 
another's  hands.  It  was  such  a  disturbed  day,  it  was  impossible 
to  keep  anything  going  straight ;  now  a  carriage  drove  up  to  the 
door  with  a  fat  woman  in  it,  now  it  was  Lasse  Trederik  who 
leaped  upon  his  bicycle  and  raced  down  the  field-path,  standing 
on  the  pedals.  Before  Boy  Comfort  had  any  idea  of  it,  the 
stork  had  been  there,  and  Ellen  was  lying  witii  a  baby  boy  on 


566  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOB 

her  arm.  He  and  Bmn  went  in  togetber  to  ocmgratolate  her, 
and  they  were  both  eqnally  astonished.  The  old  man  had  to  be 
allowed  to  touch  the  baby's  chedc 

^e's  still  so  ugly,''  said  Ellen,  with  a  shy  smile,  as  she 
lifted  the  comer  of  tli^  shawl  from  the  baby's  head.  Then  she 
had  to  be  left  quiet,  and  Brun  took  Boy  Ck>mf ort  upstairs  with 
him. 

Pelle  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  holding  Ellen's  hand,  which 
in  a  few  hours  had  become  white  and  thin,  ^ow  we  must  send 
for  H)ueen  Theresa,' "  she  said. 

^Shan't  we  send  for  your  mother  too?"  asked  Pelle,  who 
had  often  proposed  that  they  should  take  the  matter  into  their 
own  hands,  and  go  and  see  the  old  people.  He  did  not  like 
keq>ing  up  old  quarrels. 

Elkn  shook  her  head.  '^They  must  come  of  their  own  ac- 
cord," she  said  decidedly.  She  did  not  mind  for  herself,  but 
they  had  looked  down  upon  Pelle,  so  it  was  not  more  than  fair 
that  they  should  come  and  make  it  up. 

^ut  I  have  sent  for  them,"  said  Pelle.  ^That  was  what 
Lasse  Frederik  went  about  You  mustn't  have  a  baby  without 
help  from  your  mother." 

In  less  than  a  couple  of  hours  Madam  Stolpe  had  arrived. 
She  was  much  moved,  and  to  hide  it  she  began  turning  ike 
house  inside  out  for  clean  cloths  and  binders,  scolding  all  ibe 
time.  A  nice  time,  indeed,  to  send  for  anybody,  when  it  was 
all  over  I 

Father  Stolpe  was  harder.  He  was  not  one  to  come  directly 
he  was  whistled  fori  But  two  or  three  evenings  after  the  baby 
had  arrived,  Pelle  ran  up  against  him  hanging  about  a  little 
below  the  house.  WeU,  he  was  waiting  for  molher,  to  take  her 
home,  and  it  didnt  concern  anybody  else,  he  supposed.  He 
pretended  to  be  very  determined,  but  it  was  comparatively  easy 
to  persuade  him  to  come  in;  and  once  in,  it  was  not  long  before 
Ellen  had  thawed  him.  She  had,  as  usual,  her  own  manxier  of 
procedure. 

^'Let  me  tell  you,  father,  that  ifs  not  me  that  sent  for  yon, 
but  Pelle;  and  if  you  dont  give  him  your  hand  and  say  youVe 
done  him  an  injustice,  we  shall  never  be  good  friends  againP 

^pon  my  word,  she's  the  same  confounded  way  of  taking 


DAYBBEAK  667 

the  bull  by  the  horns  that  she  always  had !''  said  Stolpe^  with- 
out looking  at  her.  ^^ell,  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  give  in  at 
once,  and  own  that  Fve  played  the  fool.  Shall  we  agree  to  let 
bygones  be  bygones,  son-in-law?''  extending  his  hand  to  Pelle. 

When  once  the  reconciliation  was  effected,  Stolpe  became 
quite  cheerful.  ^^  never  dreamt  I  should  see  you  so  soon,  least 
of  all  with  a  baby!''  he  said  contentedly,  stroking  Ellen's  face 
with  his  rough  hand. 

^0,  she's  always  been  his  darling,  and  father's  often  been 
tired  of  it,"  said  Madam  Stolpe.  ^^ut  men  make  themselves 
so  hard !" 

'Tlubbish,  mother!"  growled  Stolpe.  ''Women  will  always 
talk  nonsense !" 

Time  had  left  its  mark  upon  them  both.  There  had  been  a 
certain  amount  of  unemployment  in  his  trade,  and  Stolpe  was 
getting  on  in  years  and  had  a  difficulty  in  keeping  up  with  the 
young  men  on  the  scaffolding.  Their  clothes  showed  that  they 
were  not  so  prosperous  as  formerly;  but  Stolpe  was  still  chair- 
man of  his  trade  union  and  a  highly  respected  man  within  the 
Movement. 

''And  now,  my  boy,"  he  said  suddenly,  placing  his  hands  on 
Pelle's  shoulders,  "you  must  explain  to  me  what  it  is  you're 
doing  this  time.  I  hear  you've  begun  to  stir  up  men's  feelings 
again." 

Pelle  told  him  about  his  great  plan  for  cooperative  works. 
The  old  man  knew  indeed  a  good  deal  about  it;  it  appeared 
that  he  had  followed  Pelle's  movements  from  a  distance. 

"Thaf  s  perhaps  not  so  out  of  the  way,"  he  said.  "We  might 
squeeze  capital  out  of  existence  just  as  quietly,  if  we  all  be- 
stirred ourselves.  But  you  must  get  the  Movement  to  join  you ; 
and  it  must  be  made  clear  that  every  one  who  doesn't  support 
his  own  set  is  a  black  Jeg." 

"/  have  got  a  connection,  but  it  goes  rather  slowly,"  said 

PeUe. 

"Then  we  must  stir  them  up  a  little.  I  say,  that  queer 
fellow — ^Brun,  I  think  you  call  him— doesn't  he  live  with  you  ?" 

'THe  isn't  a  queer  fellow,"  said  Pelle,  laughing.  "We  can  go 
up  and  see  him.'^ 

Brun  and  Stolpe  very  soon  found  something  to  talk  about. 


568  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

They  were  of  fhe  same  age^  and  had  witnessed  the  first  days  of 
the  Movement^  each  from  his  own  side.  Madam  Stolpe  came 
several  times  and  pulled  her  husband  by  the  coat:  they  ought  to 
be  going  home. 

^TV^ell,  it's  not  worth  while  to  quarrel  with  your  own  wife,** 
said  Stolpe  at  last;  'Hbut  I  shall  come  again.  I  hear  you're 
building  out  here,  and  I  should  like  to  see  what  our  own  houses 
'11  be  like.'' 

*TV^e've  not  begun  yet,**  answered  Pelle.  'T8ut  come  out  on 
Sunday,  and  Brun  and  I  will  show  it  all  to  you.'' 

**I  suppose  ifs  masters  whoTl  get  it?"  asked  Stolpe. 

'^0,  we  thought  of  letting  the  unemployed  have  the  work 
if  they  could  undertake  it,  and  have  a  man  to  put  at  the  head," 
said  Brun.    'Terhaps  you  could  undertake  it?" 

**Why,  of  course  I  can !"  answered  Stolpe,  with  a  feeling  of 
his  own  importance,  '^'m  the  man  to  build  houses  for  work- 
men !  I  was  member  of  the  party  when  it  numbered  only  one 
man." 

'TTes,  Stelpe's  the  veteran  of  the  Movement,"  said  Pelle. 

*TJpon  my  word,  ifd  be  awfully  nice  if  it  was  me!"  ex- 
claimed Stolpe  when  Pelle  accompanied  the  old  couple  down  to 
the  tram.  '^11  get  together  a  set  of  workmen  that  have  never 
been  equalled.  And  what  houses  we  shall  put  up !  There  wont 
be  much  papier-mach£  there!" 


XXII 

It  still  sometimes  happened  that  Pelle  awoke  in  the  night 
not  knowing  where  he  was.  He  was  oppressed  with  a  stifling 
anxiety^  dreaming  that  he  was  in  prison^  and  fancying  he  eoxdd 
still  smell  the  rank^  mouldy  odor  of  the  cell.  He  gradually 
came  to  his  senses  and  knew  where  he  was;  the  sounds  of 
breathing  around  him^  and  the  warm  influence  of  the  darkness 
itself,  brought  him  back  to  his  home.  He  sat  up  joyfully,  and 
struck  a  match  to  get  a  glimpse  of  Ellen  and  the  little  ones. 
He  dared  not  go  to  sleep  again,  for  sleep  would  instantly  take 
him  back  to  the  prison;  so  he  dressed  quietly  and  stole  out  to 
see  the  day  awaken. 

It  was  strange  with  these  dreams,  for  they  turned  every- 
thing upside  down.  In  the  prison  he  always  dreamed  he  was 
free  and  living  happily;  nothing  less  would  do  there.  There 
the  day  was  bad  and  the  night  good,  and  here  it  was  the  reverse. 
It  was  as  though  something  within  one  would  always  have 
everything.  **That  must  be  the  soul  V'  he  thought  as  he  wan- 
dered eastward  to  meet  the  first  gleam  of  day.  In  the  country 
at  home,  the  old  people  in  his  childhood  believed  that  dreams 
were  the  soul  wandering  about  by  itself;  some  had  seen  it  as  a 
white  mouse  creeping  out  of  the  sleeper's  mouth  to  gather  fresh 
experiences  for  him.  It  was  true,  too,  that  through  dreams  the 
poor  man  had  hitherto  had  everything ;  they  carried  him  out  of 
his  prison.  Perhaps  the  rSles  were  exchanged  during  the  dark- 
ness of  night.  Perhaps  the  rich  man's  soul  came  during  the 
night  and  slipped  into  the  poor  man's  body  to  gather  suffering 
for  his  master. 

There  was  spring  in  the  air.  As  yet  it  was  only  perceptible 
to  Pelle  in  a  feeling  of  elation,  a  desire  to  expand  and  burst  all 
boundaries.    He  walked  with  his  face  toward  the  opening  day, 

S69 


670  PELLE   THE  CONQUEEOB 

and  had  a  feeling  of  nnconqnerable  power.  Whence  this  feel- 
ing came  he  knew  not,  but  it  was  there.  He  felt  himself  as 
something  immense  that  was  shut  into  a  small  space  and  wonld 
blow  up  the  world  if  it  were  let  loose.  He  walked  on  qoiddy. 
Above  his  head  rose  the  first  lark.  Slowly  the  earth  drew  from 
its  face  the  wonderful  veil  of  rest  and  mystery  that  was  night. 

Perhaps  the  feeling  of  strength  came  from  his  having  taken 
possession  of  his  spirit  and  commanding  a  view  of  the  world. 
The  world  had  no  limits,  but  neither  had  his  powers;  the 
force  tiiat  could  throw  him  out  of  his  course  did  not  exist.  In 
his  own  footfall  he  heard  the  whole  future;  the  Movement 
would  soon  be  concluded  when  it  had  taken  in  the  fact  that  the 
whole  thing  must  be  included.  There  was  still  a  little  difficuliy ; 
from  that  side  they  still  made  it  a  condition  for  tiieir  coopera- 
tion that  Pelle  should  demand  a  public  recognition  of  his  good 
character.  Pelle  laughed  and  raised  his  face  to  the  morning 
breeze  which  came  like  a  cold  shiver  before  the  sunrise.  Out- 
sider I  Yes,  there  was  some  truth  in  it.  He  did  not  belong  to 
the  existing  state  of  things;  he  desired  no  civil  rights  there. 
That  he  was  outside  was  his  stamp  of  nobiliiy;  his  relations  to 
the  future  were  contained  in  that  fact.  He  had  begun  the  fight 
as  one  of  the  lowest  of  the  people,  and  as  such  he  would  tri- 
umph.   When  he  rose  there  diould  no  longer  be  a  pariah  caste. 

As  he  walked  along  with  the  night  behind  him  and  his  face 
to  the  light,  he  seemed  to  have  just  entered  into  youth  with 
everything  before  him— everything  to  look  forward  to  1  And  yet 
he  seemed  to  have  existed  since  the  morning  of  time^  so  thor- 
oughly did  he  know  the  world  of  darkness  that  he  left.  Was 
not  man  a  wonderful  being,  both  in  his  power  to  shrink  up  and 
become  nothing,  and  in  his  power  to  expand  and  fill  everything? 
He  now  understood  Uncle  Kalle's  smile  on  all  occasions;  he 
had  armed  himself  with  it  in  order  that  life  should  not  draw  too 
deep  furrows  in  his  gentle  nature.  The  poor  man  had  been 
obliged  to  dull  himseU;  he  would  simply  bleed  to  death  if  he 
gave  himself  up  to  stem  reality.  The  dulness  had  been  like  a 
hard  shell  that  protected  the  poor;  and  now  they  came  with 
their  heart  quite  safe  in  spite  of  everything.  They  could  veiy 
well  lead  when  times  were  good. 

Pelle  had  always  a  vague  feeling  of  being  chosen.    Even  as 


DAYBBEAK  871 

a  child  it  made  him  look  with  courage  in  tiie  face  of  a  hard 
world,  and  filled  his  bare  limbs  with  elasticity.  Poor  and  naked 
he  came  into  the  world,  apparently  without  a  gift  of  any  kind; 
and  yet  he  came  as  a  bright  promise  to  the  elderly,  work-bowed 
Father  Lasse.  Light  radiated  f  roni  him,  insignificant  and  ordi- 
nary though  he  was ;  God  had  given  him  the  spark,  the  old  man 
always  said,  and  he  always  looked  upon  the  boy  as  a  little 
miracle  of  heaven.  The  boy  Pelle  wondered  a  little  at  it,  but 
was  happy  in  his  father's  pleasure.  He  himself  knew  some  very 
different  miracles  at  that  time,  for  instance  the  calf  of  the  fair 
with  two  heads,  and  the  lamb  with  eight  legs.  He  had  his  own 
demands  to  make  of  life's  wonderful  riches,  and  was  not  struck 
with  surprise  at  a  very  ordinary,  big-eared  urchin  such  as  one 
might  see  any  day. 

And  new  he  was  just  showing  that  Father  Lasse  had  been 
right.  The  greatest  miracles  were  in  himself — ^Pelle,  who  re- 
sembled hundreds  of  millions  of  other  workmen,  and  had  never 
yet  had  more  than  just  enough  for  his  food.  Man  was  really 
the  most  wonderful  of  all.  Was  he  not  himself,  in  all  his  com- 
monplace naturalness,  like  a  limiinous  spark,  sprung  from  the 
huge  anvil  of  divine  thought?  He  could  send  out  his  inquiring 
thought  to  the  uttermost  borders  of  space,  and  back  to  the  dawn 
of  time.  And  this  all-embracing  power  seemed  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  nothing,  like  God  Himself !  The  mere  fact  that  he, 
who  made  so  much  noise,  had  to  go  to  prison  in  order  to  com- 
prehend tiie  great  object  of  things,  was  a  marvel  I  There  must 
have  been  far-reaching  plans  deposited  in  him,  since  he  shut 
himself  in. 

When  he  looked  out  over  the  rising,  he  felt  himself  to  be 
facing  a  world-thought  with  extraordinarily  long  sight.  The 
common  people,  without  knowing  it,  had  be^  for  centuries  pre- 
paring themselves  for  an  entry  into  a  new  world ;  the  migration 
of  the  masses  would  not  be  stopped  until  they  had  reached  their 
goaL  A  law  which  they  did  not  even  know  themselves,  and 
could  not  enter  into,  led  them  the  right  way ;  and  Pelle  was  not 
afraid.  At  the  back  of  his  unwearied  labor  with  the  great  prob- 
lem of  the  age  was  the  recognition  that  he  was  one  of  those  on 
whom  the  nation  laid  the  responsibility  for  the  future;  but  he 
was  never  in  doubt  as  to  the  aim,  nor  the  means.    During  the 


572  PELLE  THE   CONQTJEBOE 

great  lock-out  the  foreseeing  had  feared  the  impossibility  of 
leading  all  these  crowds  into  the  fire.  And  then  the  whole  thing 
had  opened  out  of  itself  quite  naturally^  from  an  apparently 
tiny  cause  to  a  steadily  ordered  battle  all  along  the  line.  The 
world  had  never  before  heard  a  call  so  great  as  that  which  he 
and  his  followers  brought  forward !  It  meant  nothing  less  than 
the  triumph  of  goodness!  He  was  not  fond  of  using  great 
words,  but  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  was  convinced  that 
everything  bad  originated  in  want  and  misery.  Distrust  and 
selfislLxesf  came  froS  misusage;  they  were  mJs  defence  against 
extortion.  And  the  extortion  came  from  insecure  conditions, 
from  reminders  of  want  or  unconscious  fear  of  it.  Most  crimes 
could  easily  be  traced  back  to  the  distressing  conditions,  and 
even  where  the  connection  was  not  perceptible  he  was  sure  that 
it  nevertheless  existed.  It  was  his  experience  that  every  one  in 
reality  was  good :  the  evil  in  them  could  nearly  always  be  traced 
back  to  something  definite,  while  the  goodness  often  existed  in 
spite  of  everything.  It  would  triumph  altogether  when  the  con- 
ditions became  secure  for  everybody.  He  was  sure  that  even  the 
crimes  that  were  due  to  abnormiiy  would  cease  of  themselves 
when  there  were  no  longer  hidden  reminders  of  misery  in  the 
community. 

It  was  his  firm  belief  that  he  and  his  followers  should  renew 
the  world;  the  common  people  should  turn  it  into  a  paradise 
for  the  multitude,  just  as  it  had  already  made  it  a  paradise  for 
the  few.  It  would  require  a  great  and  courageous  mind  for 
this,  but  his  army  had  been  well  tested.  Those  who,  from  time 
immemorial,  had  patiently  borne  the  pressure  of  existence  for 
others,  must  be  well  fitted  to  take  upon  themselves  the  leader- 
ship into  the  new  age. 

Pelle  at  last  found  himself  in  Strand  Road,  and  it  was  too 

late  to  return  home.    He  was  ravenously  hungry  and  bought  a 

couple  of  rolls  at  a  baker's,  and  ate  them  on  his  way  to  work. 
0  1^  1^  1^  0 

At  midday  Brun  came  into  the  works  to  sign  some  papers 
and  go  through  accounts  with  Pelle.  They  were  sitting  up  in 
the  office  behind  the  shop.  Pelle  read  out  the  items  and  made 
remarks  on  them,  while  the  old  man  gave  his  half  attention  and 
merely  nodded.    He  was  longing  to  get  back  to  'daybreak. 


n 


DAYBBEAK  673 

'TTon  won't  mind  making  it  as  short  as  possible  ?*'  he  said,  *'f  or 
I  don't  feel  quite  well/'  The  harsh  spring  winds  were  bad  for 
him  and  made  his  breathing  diflScnlt  The  doctor  had  advised  a 
couple  of  months  in  the  Riviera — ^until  the  spring  was  over;  but 
the  old  man  could  not  make  up  his  mind.  He  had  not  the 
courage  to  set  out  alone. 

The  shop-bell  rang,  and  Pelle  went  in  to  serve.  A  young 
sunburnt  man  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  counter  and 
laughed. 

**Don't  you  know  me?"  he  asked,  holding  out  his  hand  to 
Pelle.  It  was  Karl,  the  youngest  of  the  three  orphans  in  the 
"Ark.** 

'^Why,  of  course  I  know  you  I"  answered  Pelle,  delighted. 
'Tve  been  to  Adel  Street  to  look  for  you;  I  was  told  you  had 
your  business  there.'* 

That  had  been  a  long  time  ago !  Now  KslA  Anker  was  man- 
ager of  a  large  supply  association  over  on  Funen.  He  had  come 
over  to  order  some  boots  and  shoes  from  Pelle  for  the  associa- 
tion, '^f  s  only  a  trial,"  he  said.  **If  it  succeeds  111  get  you 
a  connection  with  the  cooperative  association,  and  thaf  s  a  cus- 
tomer that  takes  something,  I  can  tell  you !" 

Pelle  had  to  make  haste  to  take  down  the  order,  as  Ejirl  had 
to  catch  a  train. 

*lf  s  a  pity  you  haven't  got  time  to  see  our  works,"  said 

Pelle.     'Do  you  remember  little  Paul  from  the  'Ark'?    The 

.factory-girl's  child  that  she  tied  to  the  stove  when  she  went  to 

'work?    He's  become  a  splendid  fellow.    He's  my  head  man  in 

the  factory.    He'd  like  to  see  you !" 

When  Karl  was  gone  and  Pelle  was  about  to  go  in  to  Brun 
in  the  office,  he  caught  sight  of  a  small,  somewhat  deformed 
woman  with  a  child,  walking  to  and  fro  above  the  workshop 
windows,  and  taking  stolen  glances  down.  They  timidly  made 
way  for  people  passing,  and  looked  very  frightened.  Pelle 
called  them  into  tiie  shop. 

^1)0  you  want  to  speak  to  Peter  Dreyer?"  he  asked. 

The  woman  nodded.  She  had  a  refined  face  with  large,  sor- 
rowful eyes.    'If  it  won't  disturb  him,"  she  said. 

Pelle  called  Peter  Dreyer  and  then  went  into  the  office, 
where  he  found  Brun  had  fallen  asleep. 


574  PELLE  THE   CONQUEBOE 

He  heard  ihem  whispenng  in  the  shop.  Peter  was  angiy, 
and  the  woman  and  the  child  cried;  he  could  hear  it  in  the  tones 
of  their  whisper.  It  did  not  last  more  than  a  minute^  and  then 
Peter  let  them  out.    Pelle  went  quickly  into  tiie  shop. 

*Tf  it  was  money/'  he  said  hurriedly^  "you  know  youVe  only 
got  to  tell  me.'' 

*^o,  it  was  the  big  meeting  of  unemployed  this  afternoon. 
They  were  begging  me  to  stop  at  home,  silly  creatures !  Gk>od- 
ness  knows  whaf  s  come  to  them  I"  Peter  was  quite  offended. 
**By  the  by — I  suppose  you  haven't  any  objection  to  my  going 
now  ?   It  begins  in  an  hour's  time." 

^T.  thought  it  had  been  postponed/'  said  Pelle. 

^eSy  but  that  was  only  a  ruse  to  prevent  its  being  prohib- 
ited. We're  holding  it  in  a  field  out  by  Norrebro.  You  ought 
to  come  too;  ifll  be  a  meeting  thafU  be  remembered.  We  shall 
settle  great  matters  to-day."  Peter  was  nervous^  and  fidgeted 
with  his  clothes  while  he  spoke. 

Pelle  placed  his  hands  on  his  shoulders  and  looked  into  his 
eyes.  **You'd  better  do  what  those  two  want,"  he  said  earnestly. 
'^  don't  know  them,  of  course;  but  if  their  welfare's  dependent 
on  you,  then  they  too  have  a  claim  upon  you.  Give  up  what 
you  were  going  to  do,  and  go  out  for  a  walk  with  those  twol 
Everything's  budding  now;  take  them  to  the  woods  I  If  s  better 
to  make  two  people  happy  than  a  thousand  unhappy." 

Peter  looked  away,  ^^e're  not  going  to  do  anythiog  special, 
so  what  is  there  to  make  such  a  fuss  about?"  he  murmured. 

'?ou  are  going  to  do  something  to-day;  I  can  see  it  in  you. 
And  if  you  can't  carry  it  through,  wholl  have  to  take  the  con- 
sequences ?  Why,  the  women  and  children !  You  canH  carry  it 
through  I    Our  strength  doesn't  lie  in  that  direction." 

'TTou  go  your  way  and  let  me  go  mine,"  said  Peter,  gently 
freeing  himself. 

Two  policemen  were  standing  on  the  opposite  pavement^ 
talking  together,  while  they  secretly  kept  an  eye  on  the  shop. 
Pelle  pointed  to  them. 

"The  police  don't  know  where  the  meeting's  to  be  held,  so 
they're  keeping  watch  on  me,"  said  Peter,  shrugging  his  dioul- 
ders.    "I  can  easily  put  those  two  on  the  wrong  track." 

The  policemen  crossed  the  street  and  separated  outside  ibe 


DAYBBEAK  576 

shop.  One  of  them  stood  looking  at  the  articles  exhibited  in 
the  window  for  a  little  while^  and  then  quickly  entered  the  shop. 
**I8  Peter  Dreyer  here  ?**  he  asked  haughtily. 

^^  he/'  answered  Peter,  wiflidrawing  behind  the  counter, 
^ut  I  advise  you  not  to  toudi  me !  I  can't  bear  the  touch  of  a 
policeman's  hands.'' 

'Tou're  arrested  I"  said  the  policeman  shortly,  following 
him. 

Pelle  laid  his  hand  upon  his  arm.  ^ou  should  go  to  work 
with  a  little  gentleness,"  he  said.  But  the  man  pushed  him 
roughly  away.  **I11  have  no  interference  from  you !"  he  cried, 
blowing  his  whistle.  Peter  started,  and  for  a  moment  his 
thoughts  were  at  a  standstill;  then  he  leaped  like  a  cat  over  the 
iron  railing,  of  the  workshop  steps.  But  the  other  policeman 
was  there  to  receive  him,  and  he  sprang  once  more  into  the  shop, 
close  up  to  his  pursuer.  He  had  his  revolver  in  his  hand,  '^'ve 
had  enough  of  this,  confound  you  I"  he  hissed. 

Two  shots  sounded,  one  immediately  after  the  other.  The 
policeman  just  managed  to  turn  round,  but  fell  forward  witl) 
his  head  under  the  coimter,  and  Peter  dropped  upon  the  top  of 
him.  It  looked  as  if  he  had  tripped  over  the  policeman's  leg; 
but  when  Pelle  went  to  help  him  up  he  saw  that  the  blood  was 
trickling  from  a  hole  in  his  temple.   The  policeman  was  dead. 

Peter  opened  his  eyes  with  difiSculty  when  Pelle  raised  his 
head.  ^fTake  me  away !"  he  whispered,  turning  his  head  toward 
the  dead  man  witii  an  expression  of  loathing.  He  still  kept  a 
convulsive  hold  upon  his  revolver. 

Pelle  took  it  from  him,  and  carried  him  in  to  the  sbf a  in 
the  office.  ^Oet  me  a  little  water  I"  said  Pelle  to  the  old  li- 
brarian, who  was  standing  trembling  at  the  door,  but  the  old 
man  did  not  hear  him. 

Peter  made  a  sign  that  he  needed  nothing  now.  'HSut  those 
two,"  he  whispered.  Pelle  nodded.  ''And  then — ^Pelle— com- 
rade-^— ^"  He  tried  to  fix  his  dying  gaze  upon  Pelle,  but  sud- 
denly started  convulsively,  his  knees  being  drawn  right  up  to  his 
chin.  ''Bloodhounds!"  he  groaned,  his  eyes  converging  so 
strongly  that  the  pupils  disappeared  altogether;  but  tiien  his 
features  fell  once  more  into  their  ordinary  folds  as  his  head  sank 
back,  and  he  was  dead. 


576  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

The  policeman  came  in.  ^^ell,  is  he  dead?^  he  aaked  ma- 
lidouBly.    '^e^B  made  fools  of  us  long  enough  I'^ 

Pelle  took  him  by  the  ann  and  led  him  to  the  door,  ^e's 
no  longer  in  your  district^^  he  said^  as  he  dosed  the  door  behind 
him  and  followed  the  man  into  the  shop^  where  the  dead  po« 
lic^nan  lay  upon  the  counter.  His  fellow-policeman  had 
laid  him  tiiere,  locked  the  outer  door,  and  pulled  down  the 
blinds. 

'^ill  you  stop  the  work  and  tell  the  mm  what  has  hap- 
pened?'' said  Pelle  quietly  to  Brun.  '^There's  something  else  I 
must  see  to.    There'll  be  no  more  work  done  here  to-day.^ 

^Are  you  going  ?"  asked  the  old  man  anxiously. 

^^es,  Vm  going  to  take  Peter's  meeting  for  him,  now  ihat 
he  can't  do  it  himself,"  answered  Pelle  in  a  low  Yoice. 

They  had  gone  down  through  the  workshop,  where  the  men 
were  standing  about,  looking  at  one  another.  They  had  heard 
the  shots,  but  had  no  idea  what  they  meant  'Teter  is  dead  I" 
said  Pelle.  His  emotion  prevented  him  from  saying  anything 
more.  Eyerything  seemed  suddenly  to  rush  over  him,  and  he 
hastened  out  and  jumped  onto  a  tram-car. 

Out  on  one  of  the  large  fields  behind  Norrebro  a  couple  of 
thousand  unemployed  were  gathered.  The  wind  had  risen  and 
blew  gustily  from  the  west  over  the  field.  The  men  tramped 
backward  and  forward,  or  stood  shivering  in  their  thin  dothes. 
The  temper  of  the  crowd  was  threatening.  Men  continued  to 
pour  out  from  the  side  streets,  most  of  them  sorry  figures,  with 
faces  made  older  by  want  of  work.  Many  of  tiiem  cotdd  no 
longer  show  themselves  in  the  town  for  want  of  clothes,  and 
took  this  opportunity  of  joining  the  others. 

There  was  grumbling  among  them  because  the  meeting  had 
not  begun.  Men  asked  one  another  what  the  reason  was,  and 
no  one  could  tell.  Suppose  Peter  Dreyer  had  cheated  them  too, 
and  had  gone  over  to  the  corporation  t 

Suddenly  a  figure  appeared  upon  the  cart  that  was  to  be 
used  as  a  platform,  and  the  men  pressed  forward  on  all  sides. 
Who  in  the  world  was  it?  It  was  not  Peter  Dreyer  1  Pelle? 
What  smith?  Oh,  him  from  The  Great  Struggle— 'Hhe  Light- 
ning"! Was  he  still  to  the  fore?  Yes,  inde^  he  was  I  Whjy 
he'd  become  a  big  manufacturer  and  a  regular  pillar  of  so- 


DAYBREAK  577 

ciety.  What  in  the  world  did  he  want  here?  He  had  plenty 
of  cheek! 

Suddenly  a  stonn  of  shouts  and  hisses  broke  out,  mingled 
with  a  little  applause. 

Pelle  stood  looking  out  over  the  crowd  with  an  expression 
of  terrible  earnestness.  Their  demonstration  against  him  did 
not  move  him;  he  was  standing  here  in  the  stead  of  a  dead 
man.    He  still  felt  Peter's  heavy  head  on  his  arm. 

When  comparative  quiet  was  restored  he  raised  his  head. 
'Teter  Dreyer  is  dead  I''  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was  heard  by 
every  one.  Whispers  passed  through  the  crowd,  and  they  looked 
questioningly  at  one  another  as  though  they  had  not  heard 
correctly.  He  saw  from  their  expression  how  much  would  go 
to  pieces  in  their  lives  when  they  believed  it. 

'Ifs  a  liel'*  suddenly  cried  a  voice,  relieving  the  tension. 
'TTou're  hired  by  the  police  to  entice  us  round  the  comer,  you 
sly  fellow!" 

Pelle  turned  pale.  *Teter  Dreyer  is  lying  in  the  factory 
with  a  bullet  through  his  head/'  he  repeated  inexorably.  "The 
police  were  going  to  arrest  him,  and  he  shot  both  the  police- 
man and  himself  I'' 

For  a  moment  all  the  life  in  the  crowd  seemed  to  be  petrified 
by  the  pitiless  truth,  and  he  saw  how  they  had  loved  Peter 
Dreyer.  Then  they  began  to  make  an  uproar,  shouting  that  they 
would  go  and  speak  to  the  police,  and  some  even  turned  to  go. 

^'Silence,  people!'*  cried  Pelle  in  a  loud  voice.  ''Are  you 
grown  men  and  yet  will  get  up  a  row  beside  the  dead  body  of  a 
comrade?" 

''What  do  you  know  about  it?"  answered  one.  "You  don't 
know  what  you're  talking  about !" 

"I  Ao  know  at  any  rate  that  at  a  place  out  by  Vesterbro 
there  sits  a  woman  with  a  child,  waiting  for  Peter,  and  he  will 
not  come.  Would  you  have  more  like  them?  What  are  you 
thinking  of,  wanting  to  jump  into  the  sea  and  drown  yourselves 
because  you're  wet  through?  Will  those  you  leave  behind  be 
well  off?  For  if  you  think  so,  it's  your  duty  to  sacrifice  your- 
selves. But  dont  you  think  rather  that  the  community  will 
throw  you  into  a  great  common  pit,  and  leave  your  widows  and 
fatherless  children  to  weep  over  you  ?" 


578  PELLB  THE   CONQUBEOB 

'*It'B  all  very  well  for  ▼ou  to  talkP  some  one  shouted. 
^TTours  are  safe  enough  !** 

'^'m  busy  making  yours  safe  for  you,  and  you  want  to  spoil 
it  by  stupidity !  If  s  all  very  well  for  me  to  talk,  you  say  I  But 
if  there's  any  one  of  you  who  dares  turn  his  face  to  heaven  and 
say  he  has  gone  through  more  than  I  have,  let  him  come  up  here 
and  take  my  place/' 

He  was  silent  and  looked  out  over  the  crowd.  Their  wasted 
faces  told  him  that  they  were  in  need  of  food,  but  still  more  of 
fresh  hope.  Their  eyes  gazed  into  uncertainty.  A  responsi- 
bility must  be  laid  upon  them — a  great  responsibility  for  such 
prejudiced  beings — if  possible,  great  enough  to  carry  them  on 
to  the  goal. 

''What  is  the  matter  with  you?**  he  went  on.  'TTou  suffer 
want,  but  you've  always  done  that  without  getting  anything  for 
it;  and  now  when  there's  some  purpose  in  it,  you  won't  go  any 
further.  We  aren't  just  from  yesterday,  remember !  Wasn't  it 
us  who  fought  the  great  battle  to  its  end  together?  Now  you 
scorn  it  and  the  whole  Movement  and  say  theyVe  brought  noth- 
ing; but  it  was  then  we  broke  through  into  life  and  won  our 
right  as  men. 

''Before  that  time  we  have  for  centuries  borne  our  blind 
hope  safely  through  oppression  and  want.  Is  there  any  other 
class  of  society  that  has  a  marching  route  like  ours?  Forced 
by  circumstances,  we  prepared  for  centuries  of  wandering  in 
the  desert  and  never  forgot  the  country;  the  good  God  had  given 
us  some  of  His  own  infinite  long-suffering  to  carry  us  through 
the  toilsome  time.  And  now,  when  we  are  at  the  border,  youVe 
forgott^  what  we  were  marching  for,  and  sacrifice  the  whole 
thing  if  only  you  can  be  changed  from  thin  slaves  to  fat  slaves !" 

''There  are  no  slaves  here !"  was  the  threatening  cry  on  all 
sides. 

"You're  working  horses,  in  harness  and  with  blinkers  on! 
Now  you  demand  good  feeding.  When  will  the  scales  fall  from 
your  eyes,  so  that  you  take  the  responsibility  upon  yourselves? 
You  think  you're  no  end  of  fine  fellows  when  you  dare  to  bare 
your  chest  to  the  bayonets,  but  are  we  a  match  for  brutali^? 
If  we  were,  the  future  would  not  be  ours." 

"Are  you  scoflBng  at  Peter  Dreyer  ?"  asked  a  sullen  voice. 


DAYBBEAE  679 

^TiTo,  I  am  not.  Peter  Dreyer  was  one  of  those  who  go  on  in 
advance^  and  smear  the  stones  on  the  load  with  their  hearts' 
blood,  80  that  the  rest  of  ns  may  find  onr  way.  But  you've  no 
right  to  compare  yourselves  with  him.  He  sank  under  the 
weight  of  a  tremendous  responsibility;  and  what  are  you  doing? 
If  you  want  to  honor  Peter's  memory  as  it  deserves,  go  quiefly 
home,  and  join  the  Movement  again.  There  you  have  work  to 
do  that  will  transform  the  world  when  you  all  set  about  it. 
What  will  it  matter  if  your  strength  ebbs  and  you  sufiPer  hunger 
for  a  little  longer  while  you're  building  your  own  house  ?  You 
were  hungry  too  when  you  were  building  for  others. 

'^ou  referred  to  Peter  Dreyer,  but  we  are  none  of  us  great 
martyrs ;  we  are  everyday,  ordinary  men,  and  there's  where  our 
work  lies.  Haven't  the  thousands  who  have  suffered  and  died  in 
silence  a  still  greater  claim  to  be  followed?  They  have  gone 
down  peacefully  for  the  sake  of  the  development,  and  have  the 
strongest  right  to  demand  our  belief  in  a  peaceable  develop- 
ment. It  is  just  we  that  come  from  the  lowest  stratum  who 
must  preserve  the  historic  development;  never  has  any  move- 
ment had  so  long  and  sad  a  previous  history  as  ours !  Suffering 
and  want  have  taught  us  to  accept  the  leadership,  when  the 
good  has  justice  done  to  it;  and  you  want  to  throw  the  whole 
thing  overboard  by  an  act  of  violence." 

They  listened  to  him  in  silence  now.  He  had  caught  their 
minds,  but  it  was  not  knowledge  they  absorbed.  At  present  they 
looked  most  like  weary  people  who  are  told  that  they  still  have 
a  long  way  to  go.    But  he  would  get  them  through ! 

^'Comrades !"  he  cried  earnestly,  "perhaps  we  who  are  here 
shall  not  live  to  see  the  new,  but  it's  tiirough  us  that  Wl\  some 
day  become  reality.  Providence  has  stopped  at  us,  and  has 
appointed  us  to  fight  for  it.  Is  that  not  an  honor?  Look!  we 
come  right  from  the  bottom  of  everything — entirely  naked ;  the 
old  doesn't  hang  about  our  clothes,  for  we  haven't  any ;  we  can 
clothe  ourselves  in  the  new.  The  old  (Jod,  with  His  thousands 
of  priests  as  a  defence  against  injustice,  we  do  not  know;  the 
moral  of  war  we  have  never  understood — ^we  who  have  always 
been  its  victims.  We  believe  in  the  (Jood,  because  we  know  that 
without  the  victory  of  goodness  there  will  be  no  future.  Our 
mind  is  light  and  can  receive  the  light;  we  will  lift  up  our  little 


680  PELLE   THE   CONQUEEOE 

country  and  show  that  it  has  a  mission  on  the  earth.  We  who 
are  little  ourselves  will  show  how  the  little  ones  keep  up  and 
assert  themselves  by  the  principle  of  goodness.  We  wish  no 
harm  to  any  one^  therefore  the  good  is  on  our  side.  Nothing 
can  in  the  long  run  keep  us  down !  And  now  go  home !  Your 
wives  and  children  are  perhaps  anxious  on  your  account 

They  stood  for  a  moment  as  thou^  still  listening,  and  then 
dispersed  in  silence. 

When  Pelle  sprang  down  from  the  cart,  Morten  came  up 
and  held  out  his  hand,  '^ou  are  strong,  Pelle  P  he  said 
quietly. 

^'Where  have  you  come  from?**  exclaimed  Pelle  in  glad  sur- 
prise. 

'n  came  by  the  steamer  this  afternoon,  and  went  straight  up 
to  the  works.  Brun  told  me  what  had  happened  and  that  you 
were  here.  It  must  have  been  a  threatening  meeting!  There 
was  a  detachment  of  police  over  there  in  one  of  the  side  streets. 
What  was  going  on  ?** 

*T?hey*d  planned  some  demonstration  or  other,  and  would 
in  that  case  have  met  with  harsh  treatment,  I  suppose,''  said 
Pelle  gravely. 

^nt  was  well  you  got  them  to  change  their  minds.  Fve  seen 
these  demonstrations  in  the  South,  where  the  police  and  the 
soldiers  ride  over  the  miserable  unemployed.    If  s  a  sad  sight'* 

They  walked  up  across  the  fields  toward  'TDaybreak.**  "To 
think  that  you're  home  again!"  said  Pelle,  with  childlike  de- 
light.   ^TTou  never  wrote  a  word  about  coming." 

''Well,  I'd  meant  to  stay  away  another  couple  of  months. 
But  one  day  I  saw  the  birds  of  passage  flying  northward  across 
the  Mediterranean,  and  I  began  to  be  so  homesick.  It  was  just 
as  well  I  came  too,  for  now  I  can  see  Brun  before  he  goes." 

''Oh,  is  he  going  away,  after  all?  Thafs  been  settled  very 
quickly.    This  morning  he  couldn't  make  up  his  mind." 

"It's  this  about  Peter.  The  old  man's  fallen  off  very  much 
in  the  last  six  months.  But  let's  walk  quicker  I  I'm  longing 
to  see  Ellen  and  the  children.    How's  the  baby?" 

"He's  a  little  fatty!"  said  Pelle  proudly.  "Nine  pounds 
without  his  clothes  I  Isn't  that  splendid  ?  He's  a  regular  snn- 
•hine  baby." 


xxra 

It  is  spring  once  more  in  Denmark. 

It  has  been  coming  for  a  long  time.  The  lark  came  before 
the  frost  was  out  of  the  ground^  and  then  the  starling  appeared. 
And  one  day  the  air  seemed  suddenly  to  have  become  high  and 
light  so  that  the  eye  could  once  more  see  far  out;  there  was  a 
peculiar  broad  airiness  in  the  wind — the  breath  of  spring.  It 
rushed  along  with  messages  of  yoimg^  manly  strength^  and  peo- 
ple threw  back  their  shoulders  and  took  deep  breaths.  ^'Ah !  the 
south  wind !''  they  said,  and  opened  their  minds  in  anticipation. 

There  he  comes  riding  across  the  sea  from  the  south,  in  the 
middle  of  his  youthful  train.  Never  before  has  his  coming  been 
so  glorious!  Is  he  not  like  the  sun  himself?  The  sea  glitters 
under  golden  hoofs,  and  the  air  is  quivering  with  sunbeam-darts 
caught  and  thrown  in  the  wild  gaUop  over  the  waves.  Heigh- 
ho  !    WhoTl  be  the  first  to  reach  the  Danish  shore  ? 

Like  a  broad  wind  the  spring  advances  over  islands  and 
belts,  embracing  the  whole  in  arrogant  strength.  He  sings  in 
the  children's  open  mouths  as  in  a  shell,  and  is  lavish  of  his 
airy  freshness.  Women's  teeth  grow  whiter  with  his  kiss,  and 
vie  with  their  eyes  in  brightness;  their  cheeks  glow  beneatii  his 
touch,  though  tiiey  remain  cool — ^like  sun-ripe  fruit  under  the 
morning  dew.  Men's  brains  whirl  once  more,  and  expand  into 
an  airy  vault,  as  large  as  heaven  itself,  giddy  with  expectancy. 
From  high  up  comes  the  sound  of  the  passage  birds  in  flight; 
the  air  is  dizzy  with  its  own  infinitude. 

Bareheaded  and  with  a  sunny  smile  the  spring  advances  like 
a  yoimg  giant  intoxicated  with  his  own  strength,  stretches  out 
his  arms  and  wakens  everything  with  his  song.  Nothing  can 
resist  him.  He  touches  lightly  the  heart  of  the  sleeping  earth, 
calling  merrily  into  her  dull  ears  to  awake.    And  deep  down 

581 


682  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

the  roots  of  life  begin  to  stir  and  wake,  and  send  the  sap  circu- 
lating once  more.  Hedgehogs  and  field-mice  emerge  sleepily  and 
begin  to  busy  themselves  in  the  hedges.  From  the  daiteess 
below  old  decayed  matter  ferments  and  bubbles  up,  and  the 
stagnant  water  in  the  ditches  begins  to  run  toward  tiie  sea. 

Men  stand  and  gaze  in  amazement  after  the  open-handed 
gianty  until  they  feel  the  growth  in  themselves  and  can  afford 
something.  All  that  was  impossible  before  has  suddenly  be- 
come possible,  and  more  besides.  The  farmer  has  long  since 
had  his  plough  in  the  earth,  and  the  sower  straps  his  basket  on: 
the  land  is  to  be  clothed  again. 

The  days  lengthen  and  become  warmer;  it  is  delightful  to 
watch  them  and  know  that  they  are  going  upward.  One  day 
Ellen  opens  wide  the  double  doors  out  to  the  garden ;  it  is  like 
a  release.    But  what  a  quantity  of  dirt  the  light  reveals ! 

*T^re  shall  have  to  he  busy  now,  Petra  Dreyer  !'*  says  Ellen. 
The  little  deformed  sewing-woman  smiles  with  her  sad  eyes,  and 
the  two  women  begin  to  sweep  floors  and  wash  windows.  Now 
and  then  a  little  girl  comes  in  from  the  garden  complaining  that 
she  is  not  allowed  to  play  with  Anna's  big  doll.  Boy  Comfort 
is  in  the  fields  from  morning  to  night,  helping  Orandfa&er 
Stolpe  to  build  the  new  workmen's  houses.  A  fine  help  his  is ! 
When  Ellen  fetches  him  in  to  meals,  he  is  so  dirty  that  she 
nearly  loses  all  patience. 

**I  wonder  how  Old  Brun  is  I**  says  Ellen  suddenly,  in  the 
middle  of  her  work.  ''We  haven't  heard  from  him  now  for 
three  days.  Ifs  quite  sad  to  think  he's  so  fsu  away.  I  only 
hope  they'll  look  after  him  properly." 

Pelle  is  tremendously  busy,  and  they  do  not  see  much  of 
him.  The  Movement  has  taken  up  his  idea  now  in  earnest,  and 
he  is  to  have  the  management  of  it  all,  so  that  he  has  his  hands 
fuU.  'T3ave  I  got  a  husband  or  not?"  says  Ellen,  when  she  gets 
hold  of  him  now  and  again. 

'ItTl  soon  be  better,"  he  answers.  ''When  once  we've  got 
the  machinery  properly  started,  itTl  go  by  itself." 

Morten  is  the  only  one  who  has  not  set  seriously  to  work  on 
anything,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  bustle  has  an  incongruous 
effect.  "He's  thinking !"  says  Ellen,  stopping  in  the  middle  of 
beating  a  carpet.    "Thank  goodness  we're  not  all  authors  1" 


DAYBBEAK  683 

Pelle  would  like  to  draw  him  into  the  business.  'There's 
so  much  to  write  and  lecture  about/*  he  says,  **and  you  could 
do  all  that  so  much  better  than  V* 

''Oh,  no,  I  couldn't,*'  says  Morten,  'TTour  work's  growing 
in  me  too.  I'm  always  thinking  about  it  and  have  thought  of 
giving  a  hand  too,  but  I  can't.  If  I  ever  contribute  anything 
to  your  great  work,  it'll  be  in  some  other  way." 

"You're  doing  nothing  with  your  book  about  the  sun  either," 
says  Pelle  anxiously. 

''No,  because  whenever  I  set  to  work  on  it,  it  mixes  up  so 
strangely  with  your  work,  and  I  can't  keep  the  ideas  apart.  At 
present  I  feel  like  a  mole,  digging  blindly  in  the  black  earth 
under  the  mighty  tree  of  life.  I  dig  and  search,  and  am  con- 
tinually coming  across  the  thick  roots  of  the  huge  thing  above 
the  surface.  I  can't  see  them,  but  I  can  hear  sounds  from 
above  there,  and  it  hurts  me  not  to  be  able  to  follow  them  into 
their  strong  connection  up  in  the  light." 

***** 

One  Sunday  morning  at  the  end  of  May  they  were  sitting 
out  in  the  garden.  The  cradle  had  been  moved  out  into  the  sun, 
and  Pelle  and  Ellen  were  sitting  one  on  either  side,  talking  over 
domestic  matters.  Ellen  had  so  much  to  tell  him  when  she  had 
him  to  herself.  The  child  lay  staring  up  into  the  sky  with  its 
dark  eyes  that  were  the  image  of  Ellen's.  He  was  brown  and 
chubby;  any  one  could  see  that  he  had  been  conceived  in  sun- 
shine and  love. 

Lasse  Frederik  was  sitting  by  the  hedge  painting  a  picture 
that  Pelle  was  not  to  see  imtil  it  was  finished.  He  went  to  the 
drawing-school  now,  and  was  clever.  He  had  a  good  eye  for 
figures,  and  poor  people  especially  he  hit  off  in  any  position. 
He  had  a  light  hand,  and  in  two  or  three  lines  could  give  what 
his  father  had  had  to  work  at  carefully.  "You  cheat!" 
Pelle  often  said,  half  resentfully.  "It  won't  bear  looking 
closely  at"  He  had  to  admit,  however,  that  it  was  a  good 
likeness. 

'H^ell,  can't  I  see  the  picture  soon?"  he  called  across.    He 

was  very  curious. 

Tee,  if  s  finished  now,"  said  Lasse  Prederik,  coming  up 

with  it. 


584  PELLB   THE   CONQUEBOB 

The  picture  repreeented  a  street  in  which  stood  a  solitary 
milk-carty  and  behind  the  cart  lay  a  boy  with  bleeding  head, 
^e  fell  asleep  because  he  had  to  get  up  so  early/'  Lasse  Fred- 
erik  explained;  '^and  then  when  the  cart  started  he  tnmbled 
backward.''  The  morning  emptiness  of  the  street  was  well  done, 
but  the  blood  was  too  brilliantly  red. 

**If  8  very  nnpleasant,"  said  Ellen,  with  a  shudder.  "But 
if  8  true." 

Morten  came  home  from  town  with  a  big  letter  which  he 
handed  to  Pelle,  saying:  ^'Here's  news  for  you  from  Brun." 
Pelle  went  into  the  house  to  read  it  undisturbed,  and  a  little 
while  after  came  out  again. 

^Tes,  important  news  this  time,''  he  said  with  some  emotion, 
'^ould  you  like  to  hear  it?"  he  adced,  sitting  down. 

'n)BAB  Pbllb: 

**!  am  sitting  up  in  bed  to  write  to  yotu  I  am  poorly, 
and  have  been  for  some  days;  but  I  hope  it  is  nothing  serious. 
We  all  have  to  die  some  day,  but  I  should  like  to  start  on  the 
great  voyage  roimd  the  world  from  your  home.  I  long  to  see 
Daybreii'  and  alT  of  you,  and  I  feel  very  lonely.  If  the  busi- 
ness could  do  without  you  for  a  few  days,  I  should  be  so  glad 
if  you  would  come  down  here.  Then  we  could  go  home  to- 
gether, for  I  should  not  like  to  venture  on  the  journey  by 
myself. 

^The  sun  is  just  going  down,  and  sends  its  last  rays  in  to 
me.  It  has  been  gray  and  gloomy  all  day,  but  now  the  sim  has 
broken  through  l£e  clouds,  and  kisses  the  earth  and  me,  poor 
old  man,  too,  in  farewell.  It  makes  me  want  to  say  something 
to  you,  Pelle,  for  my  day  was  like  this  before  I  knew  you — 
endlessly  long  and  gray  I  When  you  are  the  last  member  of  a 
dymg  family,  you  have  to  bear  the  gray  ezistoice  of  the  others 
too. 

^  have  often  thought  how  wonderful  the  hidden  force  of 
life  is.  Intercourse  with  you  has  been  like  a  lever  to  me,  al- 
though I  knew  well  that  I  should  not  accomplish  anything  mor^ 
and  had  no  one  to  come  after  me.  I  feel,  nevertheless,  through 
you,  in  alliance  with  the  future.  Tou  are  in  the  ascendant  and 
must  look  upon  me  as  something  that  is  vanishing.    But  look 


DATBBEAK  585 

how  life  makes  ns  all  live  by  using  us  each  in  his  own  way. 
Be  strong  in  your  faith  in  the  future ;  with  you  lies  the  develop- 
ment. I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  I  were  an  awakening  prole- 
tary and  stood  in  the  dawn  of  day;  but  I  am  nevertheless  glad 
because  my  eyes  will  be  closed  by  the  new  in  you. 

'?  have  imagined  that  life  was  tiresome  and  dull  and  far 
too  well  known.  I  had  it  arranged  in  my  catalogues.  And  look 
how  it  renews  itself  I  In  my  old  age  I  have  experienced  its 
eternal  youth.  Formerly  I  had  never  cared  about  the  country; 
in  my  mind  it  was  a  place  where  you  waded  either  in  dust  or 
mud.  The  black  earth  appeared  to  me  horrible  rather  than 
anything  else;  it  was  only  associated  in  my  mind  with  the 
churchyard.  That  shows  how  far  I  was  from  nature.  The 
country  was  something  that  farmers  moved  about  in — ^those  big, 
voracious  creatures^  who  almost  seemed  like  a  kind  of  animal 
trying  to  imitate  man.  Bational  beings  could  not  possibly 
live  out  there.  That  was  the  view  in  my  circle,  and  I  had  my- 
sdf  a  touch  of  the  same  complaint,  although  my  university 
training  of  course  paraphrased  and  veiled  it  all  to  some  extent. 
All  this  about  our  relations  to  nature  seemed  to  me  very  inter- 
esting Aesthetically,  but  with  more  or  less  of  a  contradictory,  not 
to  say  hostile,  character.  I  could  not  understand  how  any  one 
could  see  anything  beautiful  in  a  ploughed  field  or  a  dike.  It 
was  only  when  I  got  to  know  you  that  something  moved  within 
me  and  called  me  out;  there  was  something  about  you  like  the 
air  from  out  there. 

'^ow  I  also  understand  my  forefathers  I  Formerly  they 
seemed  to  me  only  like  thick-skinned  boors,  who  scraped  to- 
gether all  the  money  that  two  generations  of  us  have  lived  upon 
without  doing  a  pennyworth  of  good.  They  enabled  us,  how- 
ever, to  live  life,  I  have  always  thought,  and  I  considered  it  the 
only  excuse  for  their  being  in  the  family,  coarse  and  robust  as 
they  were.  Now  I  see  that  it  was  they  who  lived,  while  we 
after  them,  with  all  our  wealth,  have  only  had  a  bed  in  life's 
inn. 

'Tor  all  this  I  thank  yotu  I  am  glad  to  have  become  ac- 
quainted through  you  with  men  of  the  new  age,  and  to  be  able 
to  give  my  fortune  back.  It  was  made  by  aU  those  who  work, 
and  gathered  together  by  a  few ;  my  giving  it  back  is  merely  a 


a86  PELLE   THE   CONQUEBOB 

natural  consequence.  Others  will  come  to  do  as  I  am  doing, 
either  of  their  own  free  will  or  by  compulsion^  until  everything 
belongs  to  everybody.  Then  only  can  the  conflict  about  human 
interests  begin.  Capitalism  has  created  wonderful  machines, 
but  what  wonderful  men  await  us  in  the  new  age  I  Happy  the 
man  who  could  have  lived  to  see  it! 

'T  have  left  all  my  money  to  you  and  Morten.  As  yet  there 
is  uo  institution  that  I  could  give  it  to,  so  you  must  administer 
it  in  the  name  of  cooperation.  You  two  are  the  best  guardians 
of  the  poor,  and  I  know  you  will  employ  it  in  the  best  manner. 
I  place  it  with  confidence  in  your  hands.  The  will  is  at  my 
lawyer's ;  I  arranged  it  all  before  I  left  home. 

"My  greetings  to  all  at  TDaybreak* — ^Ellen,  the  children,  and 
Morten.  If  the  baby  is  christened  before  I  get  home,  rem^nber 
that  he  is  to  be  called  after  me.  But  I  am  hoping  that  you  will 
come.'* 

Ellen  drew  a  deep  breath  when  PeUe  had  finished  the  letter. 
'T  only  hope  he's  not  worse  than  he  makes  out,'*  she  said.  '^ 
suppose  youll  go  ?*' 

'Tes,  I'll  arrange  whaf  s  necessary  at  the  works  to-morrow 
early,  and  take  the  morning  express." 

'Then  I  must  see  to  your  things,"  exclaimed  Ellen,  and 
went  in. 

Pelle  and  Morten  went  for  a  stroll  along  the  edge  of  the 
hill,  past  the  half-finished  houses,  whose  red  bricks  shone  in 
the  Sim. 

''Everything  seems  to  turn  out  weU  for  you,  Pelle,"  said 
Morten  suddenly. 

"Yes,"  said  Pelle;  "nothing  has  succeeded  in  injuring  me, 
so  I  suppose  what  Father  Lasse  and  the  others  said  is  right, 
that  I  was  bom  with  a  caul.  The  ill-usage  I  suffered  as  a  child 
taught  me  to  be  good  to  others,  and  in  prison  I  gained  liberty ; 
what  might  have  made  me  a  criminal  made  a  man  of  me  in- 
stead. Nothing  has  succeeded  in  injuring  me  I  So  I  suppose  I 
may  say  that  everything  has  turned  out  well." 

"Yes,  you  may,  and  now  I've  found  a  subject,  PeDe!  I'm 
not  going  to  hunt  about  blindly  in  the  dark ;  I'm  going  to  write 
a  great  work  now." 


DAYBREAK  687 

*r[  congratulate  you!  What  will  it  be  about?  Is  it  to  be 
the  work  on  the  sun  ?** 

^^eSy  both  about  the  sun  and  about  him  who  conquers.  Ifs 
to  be  a  book  about  you,  Pellel** 

'^ About  me  ?*'  exclaimed  Pelle. 

^Tes,  about  the  naked  Pelle  with  the  caul  I  It^s  about  time 
to  call  out  the  naked  man  into  the  light  and  look  at  him  well, 
now  that  he's  going  to  take  over  the  future.  You  like  to  read 
about  counts  and  barons,  but  now  I'm  going  to  write  a  story 
about  a  prince  who  finds  the  treasure  and  wins  the  princess. 
He's  looked  for  her  all  over  the  world  and  she  wasn't  there,  and 
now  there's  only  himself  left,  and  there  he  finds  her,  for  he's 
taken  her  heart.    Won't  that  be  a  good  story?" 

'1  think  it's  a  lot  of  rubbish,"  said  PeDe,  laughing.  ''And 
youll  have  to  lay  the  lies  on  thick  if  you're  going  to  make  me 
into  a  prince.  I  don't  think  youll  get  the  workpeople  to  take 
it  for  a  real  book;  it'll  all  be  so  well  known  and  ordinary." 

"They'll  snatch  at  it,  and  weep  with  delight  and  pride  at 
finding  themselves  in  it.  Perhaps  they'll  name  their  children 
after  it  out  of  pure  gratitude !" 

''What  are  you  going  to  call  it  then  ?"  asked  Pelle. 

"I'm  going  to  call  it  'Pbllb  thb  Conqubbob.'  " 


THB  BND 


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